Quirks Of Fate
by MandieS1978
Summary: What if Darcy and Lizzy fell in love before they even met? Some OOC behavior in supporting cast. 1000 word chapters.
1. The End Of All Dreams

July 3, 1811 Gracechurch Street, London

Elizabeth Bennet was angry. Her memories of the last two weeks swirled around her head like miniature whirlwinds. She had been preparing for the upcoming trip when a letter had arrived for her father. He had never been amicable with the members of the family that would eventually inherit his estate, so the letter from Mr. Collins had come as a shock to the entire family. Well, Lizzy amended to herself, her youngest sisters had not cared as the news would not affect their lives. In their minds, if it didn't concern boys, it didn't concern them.

She wished it was not so late in the evening, so she could walk off her frustration in the park. Laughing softly, she admitted that she had done her fair share of walking, both at Longbourn and here in London, and it had done little good. Still, whenever she felt like this her first instinct was to move. Instead, she picked up her little brown journal that she had poured her thoughts into so many times and opened the cap on the bottle of ink.

She sharpened her pen as the inane phrases her cousin had used made her roll her eyes in an unladylike fashion. His offer to "extend an olive branch" would end up destroying all of her hopes of marrying for love, affection, and even respect, for she knew that she could never feel that way toward someone who was so devoid of sense as Mr. Collins appeared to be. Lizzy had initially presumed that her father was joking when he informed her that he had written back offering the ridiculous man the hand of his second eldest daughter, but was soon convinced that he had been in earnest. She still did not understand his reasoning, and his unwillingness to explain caused her much exasperation.

Bitterness filled her as she wrote the last journal entry of her current life. She couldn't bear to reread her own thoughts that she had recorded since the time she was seven. The little book had almost always been secreted inside the hidden drawer of her desk at her aunt and uncle's house. The one time she brought it to Longbourn, she actually caught Jane looking in it. She had never spoken of it to anyone, but feeling anxious, and admittedly not a little betrayed, she had never taken it there again. She couldn't stand the idea that any of her family would read her innermost thoughts, especially Mr. Collins. No, the book and this room were never to be hers again, and Lizzy felt bereft.

Lizzy sighed as she laid her pen down after finishing her last entry in her journal. She knew her words were hopeless and angry, but that was how she felt as she sanded the paper, placed the little book inside the hidden drawer, and slid it closed. Inexplicably, she never even wanted to see it again! Perhaps she should burn the little book, but she couldn't imagine that either. Somehow, it seemed important to leave it behind. It was the end of all her dreams. They had shattered, and she felt too tired to begin picking up the pieces.

Being melancholy did not come naturally to her, in fact she felt like she was being pulled deeper into despair against her will, against her reason, and even against her character. She looked around her little room, much more of a home to her than the room that she shared with Jane at Longbourn. She had certainly spent more time here over the years.

Appreciative thoughts toward her aunt and uncle ran through her head. Aunt Madeline had never complained when she showed up, even if it happened in the middle of the night. She would wait patiently as Lizzy cried in her arms, wetting her shoulder, and would listen to her anytime she needed to talk. Her advice was always wise and well-thought-out over the years. She had always treated her like one of her own children. This was the last time Lizzy would reside in this little room, and her heart was breaking. Tomorrow she would leave on her last trip with her aunt and uncle. Bittersweet feelings flooded Lizzy's soul. Their last trip together would be to Derbyshire and the Peak District. Aunt Maddie wanted to show her Lambton before it was too late, while Lizzy ached to both see and climb the Peaks.

She had experienced so much thanks to her aunt and uncle. She knew that she was different from her family in large part to them, and she was truly grateful. Most of the time, she felt closer to them than she did her own parents. Her uncle had provided her an education that was perhaps not exactly considered ladylike. He had encouraged her to read and learn anything she wished, and he promoted critical thinking by having spirited debates with her in the evenings sometimes. Her aunt had taken on her training in ladylike behavior. She taught her to sew and embroider and hired masters to teach her to play the pianoforte and sing. She had shown her how to manage a household and to follow a budget. Lizzy had used this education to assist at Longbourn, and taught herself how to manage an estate with the help of her father's steward. Of course this had ended up biting her, but she couldn't repine the education. She was reasonable and rational while most of her family was anything but.

She felt the weight of poor decision making on her small shoulders. Why she was the one responsible for saving the family, she would never know. Unfortunately, the decision had been made, and Lizzy saw no way to escape. She climbed into her comfortable bed, and blew out the candle. As darkness filled the room, tears welled in her eyes and, for the first time since the edict had arrived, Lizzy cried herself to sleep.

The next morning she woke early, feeling much more like herself. Her courage had always risen when she felt intimidated, and it didn't fail her now. She would take this summer and enjoy every moment. When it was over, and she was returned to Longbourn, she would plan her future. She would take it one day, one moment at a time. However, she was also determined that if her cousin turned out to be as ridiculous as his letter suggested, she would not condemn herself to a marriage with him. With her mind resolved, she finished her packing, then proceeded to enter the nursery to help the children get ready for the upcoming trip.

Shattered by Trading Yesterday


	2. The Desk

_A/N Thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites! At the end of each chapter, I will include a song that I felt represents that particular chapter. Feel free to listen (or not)! Now on with the story..._

November 20, 1811 London

A sudden breeze danced through the crowd massed in the space of the open air market, carrying with it the scent of meat, grease, and assembled humanity. A couple stood together on the outskirts of the crowd, seemingly more alone than the circumstances would allow. At first glance, they seemed very much in love. The woman was tall, blonde, and willowy and her arm was tucked snugly into the crook of the man's arm. He was tall too. He was much taller than she. In fact he was taller than most of the men in the surrounding crowd. He had dark curly hair that ruffled as the scented air played through his locks. When one bothered to look closer, the age difference was noticeable, as was the age of the woman. She was young. In fact she much younger than her height or figure suggested, and the relationship was obviously more familial in nature.

Fitzwilliam Darcy looked down at his little sister lovingly, even as her gaze lingered on the sawdust covered ground. If only he had possessed more wisdom, she wouldn't be in such emotional turmoil! He blamed himself. He blamed her perfidious governess. But mostly, he blamed Wickham!

George Wickham had almost always been an irritant to Darcy. When they were boys, they had gotten along well, but as they aged their behavior diverged. Darcy was involved with learning how to manage an estate, and all the responsibilities of the heir of a large landowner while Wickham had fallen into the disreputable habits of gambling and seduction, causing Darcy to cease spending time with him. Darcy's father had loved Wickham, and Darcy never informed him of the negative behavior. Instead, he continued to clean up after him and pay his debts, not wishing to cause his father any pain. When his father died, he left Wickham a living, which thankfully was refused for a large sum of money. Combined with the money that Darcy's father left as an inheritance, Wickham had walked away with £4,000. This apparently not enough as he had then tried to elope with Georgiana this summer in order to receive her dowry of £30,000.

Unsurprisingly, Georgiana had not been the same in the months since Ramsgate. Learning that the man who supposedly loved you only cared about your dowry would certainly affect one's emotions. She had never been overly confident, but the situation during the summer had stolen even that small amount of courage, and his sister had become almost painfully shy and retiring. Darcy could only hope and pray that she would return to the girl he knew and loved. Only perhaps a little wiser.

Getting her out of the house had been a monumental task, but just that morning the leg on the desk that she always used had cracked. The open air market that currently proceeded around them had been going on for the last week celebrating the opening of the park, and this was its final day. Darcy took it as a sign, and refused to allow Georgiana to hide in the house, wallowing in misery any longer. It was time for her to face the world.

Pasting a smile on his normally serious countenance, he placed his hand over hers is it rested on his muscular forearm. Startling, she looked up, her light blue eyes meeting his darker blues. "Well, dearest," his deep voice rumbled from his chest, "Shall we find you a new desk?" She nodded her assent, but didn't reply vocally. Together, they stepped through the crowd, making their way to one of the tents selling furniture.

There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the placement of the piles of furniture, something that bothered the ordered mind of Fitzwilliam Darcy, but he was able to ignore that as he led his sister through the tiny aisles that wandered throughout the tent. His eyes quickly scanned the mass of furnishings looking for desks that would be appropriate for a young lady.

He was about to give up on this particular tent, when he spotted something tucked in a darkened corner. Calling the purveyor over, he motioned to the glimpse of white under a cushioned chair. "Is that a small desk?" After a glance, a nod, and a grunt from the merchant, he continued. "May we see it please?" The desk was quickly unearthed and set before them. A small smile grew on Georgiana's lips as she surveyed the intricate desk. Little flowers were carved into the surface of the desk and were painted pink. They ran around the edge of the desk and down each of the front legs. It was a frilly, feminine thing, and his sister obviously loved it. "I'll take it."

Once back at Darcy House, he realized that the dust that had covered most of the surface and was partially embedded into the carvings would have to be scrubbed off. He wanted to clean it himself, and he rang for his housekeeper. Mrs. Baker was a little round woman full of smiles. She wasn't as dear to him as Mrs. Reynolds, his housekeeper at Pemberly, but she did a marvelous job caring for them while they were in town. A tiny frown creased her forehead when the master asked for furniture polish and a rag, but she provided the requested items without hesitation. When she realized he was performing the menial task for his sister, she smiled. Here were two siblings that were truly devoted to each other.

Darcy quickly wiped down the surface, then started the more difficult task of scrubbing out the carvings. He had almost finished, when he discovered something odd. The largest carving in the center of the desk had an odd indentation in it. At first, he thought it might be chipped, but then realized that a small finger would fit inside. He pressed his pinky into the dent, and the flower reluctantly moved inward. Surprised, he kept pressing until he heard an almost inaudible click and a hidden drawer popped open revealing a small leather-bound journal inside. Darcy picked up the little book and without second thought, opened it.

Good Old Desk by Harry Nilsson


	3. Hello Fitzwilliam Darcy

July 16, 1811 Lambton

The summer vacation of the Gardiner family, which included Lizzy, was to last almost two months. Mrs. Gardiner was looking forward to spending much of the time in Lambton, in fact they had scheduled a stay of three weeks in that location alone. The other areas were only overnight stays at the most. Lizzy had had such fun climbing the Fairy Steps in Beecham and exploring several grand castle ruins with her cousins, but they had finally arrived, and Lizzy was looking forward to seeing a piece of her aunt's past.

Lambton was a quaint but bustling town. It reminded Lizzy of Meryton, except for the fact that it was built into a hill. Cobblestone streets curved around the inclined buildings. There were many interesting shops lining the streets, and right in the middle of town stood an enormous ancient chestnut tree.

Mrs. Gardiner had grown up in this town, as her father was the local tailor. It was because of him that Mrs. Gardiner was so talented when it came to sewing, an accomplishment she had happily passed on to Lizzy, who honestly preferred embroidery over stitchery. Henry Tully still owned the shop, but hired out for the day-to-day running, as well as much of the tailoring work. He only personally worked on specific orders, and was able to avoid working for their entire visit. He was looking forward to visiting with his grandchildren, while Mrs. Gardiner was looking forward to visiting without them.

She joyfully informed Lizzy that on their last day in the area, they were to visit a large local estate called Pemberly. "The house is lovely, but the grounds are superb. With your penchant for walking, I imagine that you will find yourself in heaven."

"It sounds wonderful, Aunt. I will look forward to it. In the meantime, who are we to visit today?" Lizzy retorted impishly.

During the next three weeks, Lizzy experienced much more society than she was used to. Truly, she didn't mind, especially when she saw the joy on her aunt's face. Personally, she was more excited about the plans that came after Lambton, for what were men to rocks and mountains? Some days, Lizzy would beg off visiting with her aunt and uncle, and would tour the little town. She enjoyed watching people go about their daily business, and she loved climbing the hills in the area. The sun seemed brighter and the air fresher than Lizzy had ever experienced, and she found herself wishing she could spend the rest of her life in Derbyshire.

Their final day arrived, and her aunt excitedly boarded the carriage that would take them to Pemberley. Lizzy followed, her aunt's excitement boosting her own. They drove out of Lambton and onto a long winding driveway. Trees closely lined the road, causing a aura of coziness.

As they emerged from the forest, Lizzy glimpsed the most beautiful house she had ever seen. It was so perfectly placed, it almost seemed like it had grown there as part of the landscape. There were gardens bursting with color, what looked like a smallish hedge maze, and a large glass-like lake that housed several species of waterfowl. Lizzy had to catch her breath, at the utter beauty of the place.

"Never before have I seen a place where man and nature have worked so well together," she breathed.

Her aunt just laughed. "I told you that you would love it!"

She truly did. The closer they got to the house, the more Lizzy loved it. The atmosphere surrounding it was warm and welcoming, and inexplicably she felt as if she were coming home.

Eventually they pulled up to the wide front steps, and Mr. Gardiner handed them out of the carriage. The massive front doors opened as they approached, and an older man with broad shoulders smiled in welcome.

"Welcome to Pemberley. I am Mr. Hobbs. May I presume you are the Gardiners?" He greeted them as they entered the front hall. At their affirmative reply, he instructed the footmen to take their outer garments. He gestured to a kindly looking woman behind him. "This is Mrs. Reynolds. She has been Pemberly's housekeeper for many years, and will be escorting you on your tour of the house. When you are finished here, she will direct you to Mr. Fischer, one of our head gardeners who will escort you on one of the many walks surrounding the estate. I hope you have a lovely time." With a bow, he left the room.

Mrs. Reynolds smiled kindly. "We'll start with the public rooms, then move on to the gallery, and end with a view of one of our guestrooms." She announced as she gestured at them to follow her out of the hallway. Lizzy was amazed at the subtle elegance that every room of the house seemed to exude. It was obvious that the family who lived here were wealthy, but chose not to flaunt that wealth in the furnishings of their house. It was both stately and cozy. Pemberly was a true home to its family.

Each room that they were ushered into was beautifully arranged, but definitely lived in as well. Lizzy's favorite room by far was the library. She couldn't fathom owning so many books. There were also two large wingback chairs and a settee arranged in front of a massive fireplace, and she could imagine curling up on one of the comfortable seats to read.

Eventually they were led into the gallery, and Lizzy was interested in seeing the visages of the family who lived in this magnificent home. The first wall they were led to had a grouping of miniatures hung on it.

"What a charming looking gentleman," her aunt remarked, looking closely at a particular painting. Lizzy happened to be looking at Mrs. Reynolds as she replied.

"That is Mr. Wickham." A fierce, dark expression flitted across her countenance, almost too quickly to be seen. "He is the late steward's son, and godson to the late Mr. Darcy. He has, unfortunately, turned out quite wild." She turned away before Lizzy could question either the look or the words.

"This is our current master," she announced with pride at the next portrait. The plaque proclaimed the man to be Fitzwilliam Darcy. Lizzy looked up and had to swallow a gasp. The eyes were so familiar to her, except that in this picture they were happy.

She remembered that moment in the park several years ago, how could she possibly forget? These eyes had played the lead in many secret unladylike dreams she had experienced since then. "Hello, Fitzwilliam Darcy," she whispered as she brushed her fingertips against the dark mahogany of the frame.

For the rest of the time that they were at Pemberly, Lizzy found her thoughts drifting to the handsome man who had once been so happy, but had exhibited anguish in his dark blue eyes when she had seen him in the park. Knowing that this was his home made its call to her even louder. She couldn't concentrate on anything other than him. Words and phrases floated through her consciousness. "Best landlord and master..." "... never a cross word from him..." "... known him since he was four..." "... she plays and sings all day long..."

This last brought her back to her surroundings for long enough to see a portrait of a beautiful young lady whom she also recognized as the girl who had been at the park with Fitzwilliam. A blush stained her cheeks as she realized that she had used his Christian name in her thoughts. Well, she thought, no one would ever know what she was thinking, so he would remain Fitzwilliam in her heart.

When they finally left the house, Lizzy had reigned in her thoughts enough to adequately converse with her aunt and uncle. Their tour around the lake was cool for all that it was the middle of summer. A near constant breeze came off the water, keeping them from becoming overheated. Being in the place where he lived kept the flickers of emotion alight. She couldn't help but remember the man hiding behind the emotionless mask.

It wasn't until they left Lambton that Lizzy was able to relegate him to her memories. "I only think of the past as it gives me pleasure," she whispered to herself as she dressed for bed one night, "Fitzwilliam pleases me more than any other, but I must consider my future. He cannot possibly exist there." Regardless of how often she did not think of him during her days, he continued to have the lead role in her dreams.

Hello by Lionel Richie


	4. Hello Lizzy

November 20, 1811 Darcy House, London

The childish scrawl on the back of the front cover proclaimed the book to be the property of Elizabeth Bennet, but it quickly became obvious that she preferred the moniker of Lizzy.

December 2, 1797

It snowed today. I love the snow, especially in London. Sometimes the city seems so dirty, and the snow makes it pure again. I am at Uncle Edward's house again. I seem to spend a lot of time here, but I didn't know I would be here today. It is my birthday, and he gave me this journal. He said it would be good to record my thoughts. I'm not sure anyone cares about my thoughts, but I suppose I could read them when I am much older, like when I am eleven. I turned seven today. My sister Jane gave me a beautiful golden haired doll that she had made herself when she was practicing her sewing, but Mama made me give it to Lydia when she cried. I got very mad at Mama, and yelled. Mama loves Jane. She says that Jane is so beautiful and that she will marry a rich man who will save us from the hedgerows. I don't understand. Uncle would never let us live in the streets if Papa were to die! She also loves Lydia who is two, and as the baby of the family is very spoiled. I don't think she loves me. She always calls me ugly and wild. Is that because I like to run and climb trees? Perhaps so, but I will not stop just because she says so. She thinks that sending me away is a punishment. I don't like it when she screams at me. The constant noise in the house makes my head hurt. I like going to Uncle's house, but I think I will not tell her that. She would probably not allow me to go if she knew I enjoyed myself. I wasn't mad about the doll, I don't really like dolls anyway, but it was from Jane who loves me. Papa gave me a book of fairytales. It had beautiful pictures in it. I love to read! I would rather have a book. Lydia doesn't like books.

Lizzy

Darcy looked at the carefully printed words and whispered, "Why, hello Lizzy." He wondered if as a child, she truly hadn't felt loved by her parents. While his father had been misled by Wickham, he had never failed to show his love for Darcy or Georgiana. After his mother's death, his father's life had centered around his children. He had managed to pass on his own love of Pemberley and pride in the Darcy name before his own death. Darcy's mother had loved both of her children as well, although she had died at Georgiana's birth and that love was never given the chance to develop. He could remember her caressing her burgeoning stomach and singing to her unborn child, even as her strength ebbed at the end. Sitting back in his chair, he turned the page.

July 5, 1800

I am so excited! Uncle Gardiner has married! My new aunt is so lovely and so nice. She says that since I am sent here so frequently, I may have my own room assigned to me. I wonder what that says about my itinerant lifestyle. She has also invited me to come each summer to stay with them. Their plan is to go somewhere and see something new each year. The prospect is so exciting to me! Perhaps one year we could go to the Lakes or to the Peak District. My uncle has always been so supportive of my "unladylike" habits and my new aunt has professed her approval as well. Uncle encourages me to try any education that I like. I have learned to speak Greek and Latin, as well as to read them. Uncle says that I have a talent for languages. Right now, I am learning Newtonian Concepts from a friend of his who used to be a professor at Oxford, and I love it! My teacher says that I am as talented as anyone he has ever taught. This makes me proud of myself. Aunt doesn't let me ignore my feminine accomplishments, however. She is teaching me to sew, which I don't like, and to embroider, which I do. My sister Jane embroiders beautifully. I am also learning to sing and play the pianoforte. I don't think I am very good, but then again I don't get to practice when I am at Longbourn. Although I cannot walk as much as I would like, I much prefer living with Aunt and Uncle. They enjoy taking me to the theater in order to watch the books that I have read play out on stage. Sometimes I wish that my aunt and uncle were my parents. My father ignores everyone unless he is laughing at bad behavior. My mother actively dislikes me. It goes beyond ignoring me. I know this because Mary and, to a lesser extent, Kitty are ignored by Mama. Me, she seems to hate. I can't explain it because I don't understand it. I worry about when my aunt and uncle have children. Will they still love me and allow me to stay with them? This feels like such a selfish thought, but they seem to be the only two people in my life on whom I can rely. I suppose only time will tell.

Lizzy

Darcy slid a long finger between the pages so as not to lose his place and grinned. He had studied a Newtonian Concepts at Cambridge and had had a difficult time with them at 20. This girl was... He did the mental math quickly... Half that age! He marveled at how intelligent she appeared to be. Learning Latin and Greek was more appropriate for a boy, but he had often felt that girls could be just as intelligent as boys if only they were allowed to be. He wondered what other "unladylike" subjects she had learned. If only more girls were interested in expanding their minds, perhaps he would not find it so difficult to find a woman he could tolerate for longer than a single dance. The grin fell away as he pondered the last few sentences of the entry. What kind of parent hates their own child? What reason could a mother have to treat her daughter in such a despicable manner? He anxiously turned the page, hoping that their relationship would mend as she got older.

Moon River by Audrey Hepburn


	5. A House Is Not A Home

September 3, 1811 Hertfordshire

Lizzy looked out the carriage window and started to recognize the sights surrounding them. In less than an hour, she would be home. It was strange, she thought, how it didn't really feel like home anymore. For the past several years the animosity that shrouded her day-to-day activities had made her feel more and more unwelcome. With the edict for an unwanted marriage hanging over her head, it had become a place to be avoided.

This summer had to been a balm to her soul, and she was determined to fight for her own, chosen, future. She was unsure of how to go about it, but both her aunt and uncle were prepared to help her in any way possible. She would play along with her parents, she decided. She would lull them into a false sense of security, and she would escape before Mr. Collins could propose. If she waited as long as she could, she would only have to hide for a few days before her birthday.

Before she knew it, Longbourn loomed in the distance. She was home. No one waited outside to greet her, but she supposed that this was a familiar enough sight (the Gardiners dropping her off) that it wasn't remarkable. She admitted to herself that she did feel neglected. Her aunt kissed her cheek and her uncle grasped her shoulder. They needed to continue their journey if they were to reach London before dark. The footman handed her down, then the coach drove slowly away. Lizzy waved until it disappeared then turned toward the house.

"Miss Lizzy!" Mrs. Hill greeted her at the door with a hug that always smelled vaguely like cinnamon. "It is so good to see you home again. Mr Peabody will be exceptionally glad to see you."

Lizzy sighed as she realized that nothing had changed since she had left two months ago. No doubt the steward had handled things to the best of his ability, but there were always things that required the Master's permission to accomplish. Within the next few days, she would have to visit the tenants to make sure all was well with them. Feeling a little guilty knowing her plans, she wondered how everything would fare once she was gone. Before she became too sorry though, she remembered that this land was not actually her responsibility. While she remained, she would care for it with the best of her abilities, but once she was gone, she would leave it in the hands of her father, whether he wanted it or not.

Entering the house, she could hear Mary plunking the keys of the pianoforte, Lydia and Kitty arguing over something, and her mother calling for her salts. Everything was the same, except her. That was the real problem, she realized. This really was not her home, not anymore, not since the day her father had informed her that they were forcing her to marry against her inclination. This was just a house in which she would stay for the next couple of months while she made her own plans for the future.

Over the next few days, Lizzy was struck by the fact that something had changed in the house. Jane was aloof and abrupt in her reactions toward her. It wouldn't have been noticeable to anyone else, but Lizzy was hurt by the behavior. She couldn't imagine what had happened in the time she was gone, but the sisters' relationship was strained. She tried to talk to her, but Jane avoided being alone with her, even to the extent of going to bed at different times.

Lizzy spent most of her time outside, walking quickly down favorite paths, and climbing Oakham Mount. She watched the sun rise from that view every morning, allowing the peace of the land to fill her soul. She could no longer discuss her aggravation or her ideas to avoid her parents plans for her future with anyone. Generally a social, outgoing person, she found herself slipping into solitude.

Toward the end of September, another single man moved into Netherfield. Lizzy's mother was very excited, as he had more money than the last occupant. She began regaling the family with predictions of his attachment and eventual marriage to Jane. "For Jane can not be so beautiful for nothing!" Jane's opinion was not known, as she would only blush and smile serenely.

A part of Lizzy wanted to shake her eldest sister, just to see if she would react. The unearthly placidity was starting to concern her, but the emotional barrier still existed between the sisters. Lizzy eventually realized that Jane would proceed as she wished, and there was nothing that she could do if her sister refused to let her in.

Mr. Bennet was eventually coerced into visiting the young man after he moved into his new residence. This visit was returned several days later, and the Bennet sisters got their first glimpse of their new neighbor.

"Oh, poo, he's not even wearing a red coat!" Lydia huffed as she turned away from the window. Her preoccupation with boys had developed into an obsession over officers as a militia had moved into Meryton. Kitty turned away too, following her little sister as was her wont.

Mary shoved her spectacles higher onto her nose as she turned the page in her book. She cared little for the excitement surrounding the man. Now if it had been a foriegn missionary, that would be a different matter!

Soon only Jane and Lizzy were left at the window, looking at the gangly red-haired man. He had a pleasant, outgoing look, Lizzy decided. "He'll do," Jane finally spoke.

"Do? Do for what?" Lizzy was confused.

"To get me out of here." Jane turned a cold look upon her. "I am sick and tired of hearing how you are to save the family. How Papa cannot exist without you. You, who have never been a true member of the family, as you have always flitted off to London any time you pleased. You always leave me to deal with the aftermath, and I am sick of your selfishness. I will marry Mr. Bingley, if only to get away from you!" Her eyes flashed, and her chest heaved as she finished her diatribe. Lizzy was astounded and hurt.

"That isn't how it is, Jane! You have to know that!" Lizzy was horrified to think that her sister saw all of her time in London as abandonment. "Mama..." she began.

"Don't you dare blame Mama! She has done everything for us, and you have never appreciated her. You, Elizabeth, are the only one who has never chosen to be a part of this family. I only hope you are more loyal in the future. You have chased men away from me in the past. For once think of someone other than yourself!" Jane stalked off, leaving her feeling incredulous and more angry than she had ever been before.

A House Is Not A Home by Luther Vandross


	6. Lessons In Parenting

November 20, 1811 Darcy House, London

Unfortunately, as Darcy read on, he realized the futility of his wish. The meanness of understanding of Mrs. Bennet meant that she would never comprehend anyone else's thoughts or opinions.

January 7, 1803

My poor aunt has recently delivered her second child. He's just over two months old, and he is a darling! His cheeks are so chubby and he has the sweetest mouth. He doesn't cry as much as his sister did when she was born and I love holding him. He is so warm and smells just like a baby ought. His older sister, my cousin Sarah who is a little over a year and a half, loves him too. There was a period of adjustment, but it seems to be over now. Aunt has been so busy with her own children, and was certainly not expecting me today. Today was my sister Jane's come out. She turned fifteen recently and today was her first assembly. Jane is so sweet and good, and never argues with Mama, whether she agrees or not. She needs me to stand up for her! I told Mama in no uncertain terms that fifteen is too young to come out and that Jane had no wish to go to the assembly. After what seemed like an endless rant, off I was sent to The Gardiner's. I will never tell her how much I love it here. Mama claims that Jane is so beautiful that she is guaranteed to make a brilliant match. As we, none of us, have dowries or connections I have my doubts. However, if any of us were to marry well, I would have to say it should be Jane. She would make any man a wonderful wife. Mama is also quick to tell me that I would be lucky to receive a proposal, but I'm not sure I want to marry. I look at the way my father treats my mother, and I am sure I would hate to see that kind of behavior in my husband. She is vapid and silly, but instead of supporting her or correcting her, he just laughs. There is no love or respect, both of which I would require from my husband. Perhaps, once Jane has made her brilliant match, I will live with her and teach her children how to play pianoforte badly.

Lizzy

Darcy considered her words. "Jane" may indeed be sweet, kind, and beautiful, however, "Lizzy" seemed to be a woman that he could appreciate. She was loyal, vibrant, and incredibly smart. He wondered briefly if she were married before remembering that, not only had he never actually met her, but he was unlikely to ever do so. Slightly disappointed, and befuddled at himself for being so, he went back to the book.

February 28, 1803

I am at home and the house is quiet. Both of these statements are astounding in their own way. I have lasted an entire month without being sent to my aunt and uncle. I try not to upend my mother's nerves, but it is almost second nature for me to accidentally do so. Aunt never complains when I show up at their door, but I am sure she enjoys time with her own family without me in the way.

As to the quiet of the house usually Lydia and Kitty, who are seven and nine respectively, are running unchecked through the halls screaming and giggling, while Mary, who is almost eleven, is pounding away on the pianoforte, and Mama complains loudly about her nerves. Earlier today, Mary fell and hurt her arm. Jane and I have been taking turns caring for her while Mama rests in her bed. Lydia and Kitty went to spend the day with our Aunt Phillips who is Mama's sister, and is almost as silly as she. However, she does love to have the younger girls come over from time to time. She says they keep her young.

I've been thinking about marriage and parenthood lately. Mama says that I'm not pretty enough and too clever by far to ever marry. I don't know if I believe her or not, but I do know that if I do ever marry and have children, I am going to be a very different kind of parent than I have had. Parents should not have favorites. My father claims that I am his favorite, but he never stops my mother from degrading me. He says all of us are silly and ignorant, but perhaps I am wittier than the rest. Is that something nice to say about your "favorite"? He never questions my mother's decisions to send me away. Although I love Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, this is my home and these are my parents. Neither one of my parents try to curb Lydia or Kitty's behavior. I know that they are children, however if they are not taught right from wrong now, they could ruin the family when they are older. Mama loves Lydia's "lively" personality, as it reminds her of herself, and Papa just hides in his library. Unfortunately, I don't think either of them will ever change.

Lizzy

P.S. I found Jane reading this journal when she was supposed to be caring for Mary. We have always shared confidences as well as a bed, but honestly, I feel as though she can't be trusted anymore. With that glimpse of her reading my journal, our close relationship has fractured. I have lost the only member of my Longbourn family I really had. I don't know what to think.

Darcy looked up from the book. He remembered the feeling of not being supported by his father. His father, while loving and kind, had openly preferred Wickham's open, friendly nature to Darcy's serious one. Lessons in the wrong style of parenting had been personal and overwhelming, and he had decided that he would never favor another child over his own. Now he realized how important it was to support each child equally and fairly. As angry as he was to read the postscript, he also hoped that the girls would find their way past the betrayal as Jane seemed to be Lizzy's only support at Longbourn.

December 8, 1805

I am officially out and I'm back at the Gardiner's. Only my sensible loving aunt would accept a child showing up at her doorstep long after midnight. Sometimes I wish I could just stay here. Yesterday was a disaster. There was an assembly last night. It was my first one, and I had so much fun in the beginning. Although I still feel that fifteen is too young to come out, there is no arguing with my mother. I know that part of her nervous nature comes from the entail on Papa's estate and her inability to have a son. I understand, but pushing us out before we are ready seems utterly foolish. Jane is overly proper and polite, and I can laugh through my own feelings of inadequacy, but I worry about how the younger girls will fare.

At the assembly, it began as a fun, uneventful evening. I had a new dress, although Mama insisted on too much lace in my opinion. I danced! Oh, how I love dancing. My mother stood at the side of the room amidst her cronies, talking loudly about how beautiful Jane is, and how I am nothing to her. Sometimes, as much as I love my mother, I hate her too. She is embarrassing and oftentimes rude. I often wonder how many of Jane's beaus she frightens away, for what man would want to be attached to a family such as ours? The louder my mother gets, the quieter and more proper Jane becomes. She never shows any emotion in public anymore. Only I see her true feelings, as she dons her mask of propriety when she passes the bedroom door, although I am starting to wonder if she hides her feelings from me as well. So, how did it all go wrong?

The estate that is nearest to ours has been leased by a single man named Mr. Pope. I would say gentlemen, but there is nothing gentlemanly about him. I can see how he looks at women, and it makes me extremely uncomfortable. He has an income of four or five thousand a year, which makes him ultimately eligible in my mother's eyes. Even (and perhaps especially) for Jane. He scared my sister, and she begged me to stay close to her during the breaks between sets. He actually tried to lead her out onto the balcony. Mama was sure that a proposal was imminent and mayhap it was, but Jane wanted nothing to do with him. I turned into a virago and was my impertinent best as I informed him that when you lie with dogs you end up with fleas and we had no use for them. He was furious and stormed out, professing an imminent return to London and a cessation of all his attentions toward my sister. Well, since that was exactly what I wanted, I was happy. Until Mama found out. I am hoping that she is not so angry that I am never welcomed home. Nevertheless, I did the right thing, at least for Jane's sake.

Lizzy

Darcy considered the differences between Lizzy's and Georgiana's personalities. At the time this last entry was written, she would have been the same age is Georgie was now. Yes fifteen was too young to be out, but if anyone could handle it, he was sure that Lizzy could. She was so strong, and was willing to fight tooth-and-nail for those that she loved. She would make a wonderful sister for Georgie. Surely Lizzy's confidence would be nothing but beneficial to combat his sisters sometimes debilitating shyness. Wryly, he realized that her outgoing nature would likely wrestle his own reticence as well.

Numb by Linkin Park


	7. An Assembly

October 15, 1811 Assembly Hall, Meryton

Tensions had been high over the last week and a half since Jane had confronted Lizzy. Afterward, she had thought of several arguments that she could have made. Other than the summer trips, her forays into London had never been her choice or inclination. Her mother's hatred toward her had become worse over the years, yet still, she had not requested to leave.

Jane lived in this house too. How could she be so blind to her mother's behavior? However, the accusation that hurt the worst was the idea that she had chased a desired suitor away from her sister. Jane had begged for help, and Lizzy could still remember the stinging slap that aid had earned from her mother. She had not been able to discuss any of this with Jane, as her sister was avoiding her again, and now, they were heading to the assembly, and Lizzy prayed that everything would work out as it ought. She was determined not to intervene again, not even if asked.

The assembly hall looked beautiful. Candles lined the wall, and the chandeliers were lit, causing the prisms to sparkle. There was a fire roaring in the fireplace at the back of the room in deference to the cool October night. Musicians gathered on the dais, getting their instruments tuned and warmed up.

Many of the local inhabitants were there already, and were milling about the room, talking with friends. Mrs. Bennet pushed past her daughters in order to greet her long-time friend and rival, Lady Lucas. The two gossipy ladies had an awkward friendship, one that often lead to confrontation as they each had marriageable daughters of similar ages. When, as was the case this evening, there was a single man thrown into the mix, the constant cackling of the two matrons, and their efforts to outdo the other, often led to an antipathy, and Lizzy fully expected an estrangement between them over the next couple of weeks, until their mutual need for each other led to their reconciliation.

Kitty and Lydia abandoned the group next, skipping through the crowd giggling. Their only goal was to fill their dance cards, preferably before the other did. Lizzy shook her head at their foolishness. She was truly afraid that one of them, probably Lydia, would run headlong into ruination, taking the entire family with her.

Mary was the next member of the family to remove herself, but Lizzy was ashamed to realize that she hadn't actually noticed her departure. Mary was pious and serious, and would end up sitting amongst the wallflowers, reading scriptures and judging those around her that dared to have fun. Lizzy wasn't sure why Mama still forced her to attend assemblies, as she never danced and frowned ferociously at those who did.

This left Jane and Lizzy standing together at the entrance. In times past, they would have commiserated with each other about the attitudes and actions of their family members, but tonight there was no pleasure in their interactions. Even the air around them seemed fraught with tension and aggravation. Lizzy had no wish to deal with her sister in such a public setting, and, noticing her friend, Charlotte in the crowd, decided to join her instead. As she began to move, however, Jane's hand clamped around her wrist in a way that was almost painful. Turning her head, she glared, first at their hands, then at her sister's face. Jane's grip only tightened.

"Remember, Elizabeth, that Mr. Bingley is mine. Don't even bother approaching him. You are practically engaged, anyway, and everyone knows it. If he comes to you, I expect you to recommend me." Jane blinked placidly, as if she weren't hissing her reproof at her sister.

Somehow, Jane's censure still managed to surprise Lizzy, but she wasn't sure why at this point. She couldn't honestly advocate her sister to Mr. Bingley, but she also couldn't imagine what she would unleash if she said anything negative. She wouldn't say anything at all to him, she decided. Hopefully, he would be intelligent enough to see past her sister's outward beauty.

Jerking her hand out of her sister's grasp, she stepped away from the other woman. "You are in no position to tell me anything, however if he hears anything negative about you, it will not have come from me." With that, she continued to make her way toward Charlotte.

This decision didn't end up making her night any better, as Charlotte apparently felt jealous over her ability to catch the heir to Longbourn. Until she was interrupted by the arrival of the Bingley party, she kept delivering spiteful comments and cutting remarks. Lizzy was convinced that she had nothing to keep her in Hertfordshire anymore. Not one person seemed to have her interests at heart.

There were four people in the Bingley party, Mr. Bingley being the only one that Lizzy recognized. Charlotte left to join her family as they were greeting the new arrivals. Her father, Sir William, then proceeded to lead the group through the room, introducing them to all their neighbors. As they were introduced to the Bennet family, Lizzy discovered that the women were Mr. Bingley's sisters, and the other gentleman was the husband of the older sister.

Both women held their noses slightly upturned, as if they had smelled something foul, while the other man, Mr. Hurst, just looked bored. Mr. Bingley quickly secured Jane's next available set, and the group moved on. Lizzy didn't think that she would make friends with any of them, as they apparently felt above their company.

Lizzy discovered that her initial guess about the sisters' characters was correct as she overheard Miss Bingley tell Mrs. Hurst that there was not a single person with whom it would not be a punishment to associate with. Jane would certainly have an uphill battle with those two, and Lizzy didn't envy her one bit.

Jane certainly made one conquest that evening, as Mr. Bingley danced twice with her. It was obvious that if it had been appropriate to dance again, he would have been amenable to that as well, as he could be found by her side much of the night. When the Bennet women finally made their way home, Mrs. Bennet happily praised her eldest's ability to hold the gentleman's attention. She was positive that her daughter was destined become Netherfield's Mistress.

Paparazzi by Lady Gaga


	8. Tolerable, I Suppose

November 20, 1811 Darcy House, London

Darcy was beginning to forget that he didn't actually know this woman. His heart ached with her words. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he wondered if he should be prying into someone else's personal thoughts, but he continued to turn the pages.

February 4, 1806

I was finally returned to to Longbourn. It lasted for a full two days. Although Mama claimed to have forgiven me, she consistently delivered little cutting comments as long as my father was not in the room. These comments all centered around my looks, rather than my actions. It is hard to stay positive and confident when all I hear is how ugly I am and how I will never amount to anything. My father eventually heard her and this time he was the one who sent me off to London. At this point, I truly wonder why I am brought back to Longbourn at all.

I am sitting at my vanity in front of my mirror as I write and I am determined to be honest with myself. Good or bad, I will be honest. My mother and sisters are all tall, blond, and willowy. Well my mother used to be willowy, although time and childbirth have added a few curves. Jane and Lydia have blue eyes, like my mother, hence one of the reasons they are her favorites. Apparently, Lydia has a similar personality to my mother which means she has always been vapid and unchecked. Kitty and Mary have brown eyes like my father, although Mary wears spectacles which hide the exact shade. My eyes are green but the shade varies dependent on what I wear or how I'm feeling.

Mary is considered plain, but I imagine that is mostly because she doesn't try. She has a serious and pious nature even at twelve. She wears plain clothes and pulls her hair back tightly. She reads nothing but scripture and Fordyce. While it is beneficial to be knowledgeable in both these, I don't think it's good to limit your knowledge. She quotes both texts readily, but rarely offers up her own opinion. Most of the time she speaks to me, she mentions honoring my mother and my father. She seems to think that my attitude is disrespectful, but it is so difficult to respect someone who truly appears to hate me.

I am the changeling child. I don't look like my sisters, and I am the least understood of all my mother's daughters. I am short, although I prefer petite. I stand barely over five feet. My youngest sister Lydia is only shorter than me by a couple of inches, and she is only nine. My skin is closer to gold than to cream. Undoubtedly this is because I spend so much time out of doors. To my mother's horror, I have a spattering of freckles across my cheeks and nose, but I like them. On my left cheek, there are three that form an equilateral triangle. My hair is curly, whereas all of my other sisters and my mother have straight hair. I actually love my curls, although they are hard to tame from time to time. I suppose, since I am being honest, I am hard to tame too, so it only makes sense that my hair would be as well.

My hair is the color of chocolate. I love chocolate! At Longbourn, I only get it on my birthday. When I'm here, I get to drink the slightly bittersweet drink weekly! I love the taste, and the sensation of it sliding down my throat. Aunt likes hers with cream, but I enjoy mine rich and dark. I think that my papa used to have chocolate curls as well, but now it is mostly gone or gray.

The only part of me that I don't particularly like is my figure. I'm so much rounder than any of my sisters, although since neither Kitty or Lydia are old enough, I suppose it is possible they will develop similar curves. I would never discuss this with anyone, but when my courses started, my own curves just appeared. Mama calls me fat, but that's not true. My waist is as small as Jane, but I do have wide hips and an overly bountiful decolletage. Men stare at my chest, especially Mr. Pope. His gaze felt as if he was disrobing me in his mind and was quite uncomfortable and disconcerting. It didn't help that he was supposed to be courting my sister, and was still staring at my body. Sometimes, while running or dancing or anything active that I find fun, I feel as though I will fall out of my dress but fortunately I never have!

My lips are wide, but my nose is nice and my teeth are straight. All in all I may not be beautiful, but I am certainly not ugly either. I am tolerable I suppose. Perhaps someday, I will meet a man who will be tempted to ask for my hand. In the meantime, I will cease listening to my mother.

Lizzy

Darcy gripped the book tightly. He couldn't even imagine feeling so unloved and doubtful about one's self esteem. Although he would never admit it aloud, he knew he was handsome. He saw how women looked at him, even before they knew his worth. He remembered how gangly and awkward he felt when he was fifteen and he wondered if all girls felt as uncomfortable with their developing curves. He had never thought to ask. A quiet knock on the door of the study brought him out of his contemplation, and without a second thought, he slipped the book into the inside pocket of his coat as he stood. His sister's head timidly peeked around the door frame and smiled at him. "Georgie, come in! See what I have discovered."

Without revealing the presence of the journal, Darcy happily showed Georgiana how the hidden drawer worked. She was ecstatic about the secret shared between the two of them, and Darcy felt as though he could see her previous self peeking through her current despondency. After having a footman deliver the desk to Georgiana's quarters, Darcy made his way through the halls to his own rooms. Theoretically, he was there to prepare himself for dinner, but his fingers caressed the spine of the little book unwittingly. Maybe just one more entry before dinner.

Ugly by Nicole Dollaganger (language warning)


	9. Arts and Allurements

November 12, 1811 Longbourn, Hertfordshire

A note came for Jane during breakfast. It was from Miss Bingley, inviting Jane to come for dinner. Mrs. Bennet was loudly excited, proclaiming to all and sundry that of course Miss Bingley would enjoy getting to know the woman her brother would marry. Her only disappointment came when she learned that Mr. Bingley would not be there. A slightly devious look crossed her face as she looked out the window.

"Of course you'll go," she cried, "You may ride Nelly, as it looks like rain. They will ask you to spend the night, and you shall have your opportunity to visit with Mr. Bingley!"

"Mama!" Lizzy exclaimed, "The ladies will see through this ploy, and think that Jane is desperate!" She was appalled at her mother's suggestion, but Jane's cold glare toward her implied that she may not be. Indeed, her words confirmed Lizzy's suspicions.

"I think Mama has a wonderful idea. I must take every opportunity to place myself in Mr. Bingley's company." Jane looked away, her nose slightly upturned. "His sisters enjoy my company, and will never presume me to be duplicitous."

"Do you love him?" Lizzy remembered whispered conversations when they were girls, vowing to only marry for love and respect, especially after viewing their parents' marriage.

Jane laughed humorlessly. "It's not love, silly child, it's marriage." With that, Jane and her mother left the table to plan her outfit. Lizzy was left feeling confused. What had happened to her sister?

Shortly after Jane left that evening, the rain started. It began as a sprinkle, but quickly became a deluge. Mrs. Bennet heartily congratulated herself when another note came from Netherfield, informing the family that Jane was to spend the night. The next morning, Jane sent a message to her mother, claiming that she had come down with a cold, and would not come home right away. Mrs. Bennet cackled with glee, but despite her discomfiture, Lizzy was concerned about Jane's health.

"You should go to Netherfield to take care of Jane. I don't trust that Bingley woman to know what she likes." Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips and nodded.

"I don't know, Mama," Lizzy demurred. She felt fairly certain Jane would not like her company, but she also couldn't deny her basic instinct to protect those that she loved. No matter how Jane currently felt about her, Lizzy still loved her sister.

"Nonsense. You are the perfect choice," her mother remarked. "You are too ugly to tempt Mr. Bingley away from Jane, and you may find a way to help her catch him. You can also bring some of her more attractive outfits in order to lure Mr. Bingley into proposing."

"Mama! Jane is ill! She will not be luring anyone into anything!"

Mrs. Bennet just snorted. "We'll see, Elizabeth. Just do as I say and bring her clothes with you."

Lizzy was appalled at her mother's attitude, but followed her directions. When she had a small valise packed with Jane's best clothes, she requested the carriage. "Your father needs the horses on the farm today, you will have to walk."

"Not that I mind walking, but the roads are muddy. I won't be fit to be seen! Also, I have Jane's valise with me. Surely the horses could be spared?" This last sentence came out as a desperate question. Lizzy couldn't fathom what the ladies would think if she showed up with her hems six inches deep in mud, but it was sure to be negative.

"You'll walk, Elizabeth. I don't want there to be any reason to send her home so quickly. Also, you will stay as long as Jane needs you, assisting her in any way possible. Do not get Jane's things wet or dirty." With this, Mrs. Bennet practically shoved Lizzy out the door. Huffing with frustration, she began the three-mile trek towards Netherfield.

By the time Lizzy arrived, her hems and boots were indeed covered in mud. She was embarrassed as the butler led her through the halls to the drawing room, aware of the footprints she left behind. Oh, if only she had been allowed to take the carriage! Upon entering the drawing room, she looked up from her dirty footwear to see Jane sitting on a couch with Caroline Bingley, chatting as if she hadn't a care in the world. Lizzy blinked at the sight and stuttered, "Jane? I... I thought you were ill."

Jane exasperatedly rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here Elizabeth?" She asked irritatedly. "It is extremely rude to show up without an invitation, and so filthy besides! Really, Elizabeth, are you still a child to be traipsing through the mud?" She and Caroline giggled as Jane turned haughtily away.

Lizzy stood, mouth agape. "Mama sent me to help and to bring your clothes." She finally replied. "Let me deliver this valise to you, and I will be on my way." She had no wish to stay here any longer.

Jane looked at her, calculatingly. "Mama told you to help me?" Lizzy reluctantly affirmed the directive. "Well, in that case, I do have something for you to do. I need a reason to stay here for a few days without being confined to a bed-chamber. You can be ill while I visit with my friends. It's perfect!"

"Jane, this doesn't make sense. Why claim an illness? Why should I be ill? I refuse to tell a falsehood to Mr. Bingley."

"You'll do as I say, Elizabeth! Or I shall tell Mama that you refused to help me." Jane smiled victoriously.

"Really, Miss Eliza," Caroline whined, "You are acting like we are asking you to murder someone! All you need to do is stay in a lovely guest room for a couple of days."

"What are you getting out of this situation?" Lizzy asked, confused as to why Mr. Bingley's own sister was in on the scheme.

"Never mind about that," Jane retorted, "Just do as you're told." Before Lizzy could say another word, she was escorted upstairs and abandoned in an unused bed-chamber.

She paced the room, trying to make sense of the last quarter-hour. Caroline Bingley thought herself above the personages in Meryton. She had heard her say so. Why had she suddenly befriended Jane? Why conspire with her against her own brother? Lizzy was sure something underhanded was going on, and she was determined to find out what.

Her investigation began as she snuck out of her room. She moved silently down the hallway in her stocking feet, having removed the muddy boots. She refused to cause any more additional work for the poor Netherfield staff. As she approached the family wing, she could hear voices. Creeping closer, she could distinguish the conversation.

"Cease fretting, Caro! I can control my sister." Jane's voice was authoritative and unyielding.

"Fine," Caroline replied sulkily, "Just remember, I help you win Charles, and you help me compromise his friend."

"Of course," Jane soothed. "Elizabeth's presence shall not hinder our plans. Charles is so close to proposing already. All he needs is a little push. I am hoping I can talk him into a special license so we can marry before Elizabeth does. After we wed, I will help you pursue your target."

"I still cannot believe that anyone would choose to marry that uncivilized hoyden!" Caroline tutted. "She is positively wild!"

Jane sniffed. "He has never met her, which is the only way she could ever wed. She is ugly and utterly worthless but by wedding the heir, she will keep my father's estate in the family."

Neither needing nor desiring to hear more, Lizzy meandered back to her room, her heart breaking. Her beloved sister, her one true friend amongst her family at Longbourn, was gone, and Lizzy could not understand why. She had been the one to be betrayed, first by Jane reading her journal then by her caustic attitude, not the other way around! She decided at that point to leave her sister alone. Jane would act how she wanted. Lizzy only hoped Mr. Bingley would be able to see past her arts and allurements before it was too late.

Lizzy stayed in her room, only sneaking out in the early morning for her daily walk. By the time they went home on Sunday, Jane was happily engaged to Mr. Bingley. Mrs. Bennet happily declared that she knew how it would be, and that Jane could not be so beautiful for nothing. Lizzy secretly added that she could not be so conniving for nothing either.

The next day brought Mr. Bingley back to Longbourn with an invitation to a ball he was holding in Jane's honor. It was accepted with alacrity. He was sure to secure Jane's most important dances and to assure them that the incoming Mr. Collins was not to be excluded. It seemed unfair to Lizzy that Jane had, again, gotten her way.

Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran


	10. Gentlemen-like Behavior

November 20,1811 Darcy House, London

Darcy had lost himself to the unknown author, not that he felt unacquainted with her. He couldn't resist the pull her words emanated, and was subsequently drawn in.

August 14, 1806

I've been considering the behavior of ladies and gentlemen lately. My mother, as the wife of the gentleman, is considered a lady. No matter how inappropriate her conduct, she is still a lady. Her behavior would never be accepted here in London, but at Longbourn she is one of the most predominant women in society. I might be willing to explain her behavior with the concept that she was not born a lady, however I am coming to realize that really is just an excuse. My mother's father was the second son of a gentleman. Instead of the law, the military, or the clergy, he chose to start his own business. His father was furious and disowned his son because he didn't want ties to trade.

This meant that my mother was not reared or educated as most ladies are. My mother and her sister, my Aunt Phillips, are silly and somewhat vacuous. They never had a governess and never had their manners curtailed so they don't see the point of either when it comes to rearing children. My mother attributes her liveliness to catching my father, and expects all her daughters to "put themselves out there". Sometimes this happens in an inappropriate way. My uncle, who is my mother's brother, is one of the most gentlemen like men I have ever met. He has always been intelligent and observant. Combined with attending Oxford when he was younger, this has assisted with his proper mannerisms. His wife is genteel and everything proper. She was raised with the expectation of propriety, which has served her well. I contribute my own ladylike behavior to her.

I was in the park yesterday with my aunt and cousins. As we strolled down the path, I chanced to see a very handsome young man. He appeared to be proper and proud, but not in a negative way. Gauging from his clothing, he was wealthy and in mourning, but it was his eyes that really caught my attention. They were deep, dark blue, and full of pain. His face was sober and serious, seemingly unaffected by joy or sorrow, but his eyes gave lie to the mask he wore. I had a feeling that most people would call him proud in a negative way, or even perhaps arrogant, but his eyes revealed his doubts, his fears, and his pain. My heart hurt as I sank into the depths of those eyes. He was with a young girl and an older woman. The girl appeared to be sad as well, but didn't carry the same burden of grief that he did. Something inside changed with my view of this man. What kind of world do we live in where we can't show our real faces to others? When the requirement for gentleman-like behavior is to hide your true thoughts and feelings from everyone around you? I can only hope that he takes that horrible, unfeeling mask off in private. Does he have someone to comfort him? To stand beside him and prop him up when he requires it? Part of me hopes so, but admittedly part of me wishes that he could have seen me as clearly as I saw him. How foolish is that? I never exchanged any words with him, merely saw something that I feel as though most people don't. I don't even know his name but somehow I am in love.

Lizzy

A knock on his dressing room door had Darcy sliding the book into the drawer of the table placed beside his bed. After his command to enter, his valet Parker came in to assist him to change. His mind was solely on Lizzy's words, and he was more taciturn than usual. August had been a difficult month for both himself and Georgiana for the past five years since his father's death. He remembered having to come to London immediately following his father's funeral to deal with Wickham, whom he didn't want anywhere near Pemberly. His head shot up as he recalled walking in the park with Georgie after the meeting. Could it be? Could they have seen each other? He filtered through his memories searching for a girl with chocolate curls, but alas she remained imperceptible.

After a dinner at which the two participants struggled to carry on a conversation, Darcy wanted nothing more than to escape to his room in order to immerse himself into Lizzy's world. Unfortunately, he was arrested by the arrival of his favorite cousin. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam had a harried look in his eyes and the tautness in his mouth that were inexplicable. He glanced towards Georgiana who sat at the pianoforte and proclaimed, "Darcy we need to talk. In private, if you will excuse us Georgie."

Darcy lead Richard to his study, unsure of what to think of his abrupt appearance. As soon as the door was shut, Richard started pacing. "It is a disaster, Darcy. Perhaps we should have foreseen it, but it's too late to prevent it now." He held up his hands to prevent Darcy from speaking. "Let me tell you what has happened, then we can discuss how we proceed." At Darcy's nod, Richard continued, "To start, remember that Mrs. Young was referred to us by Aunt Catherine. Well, it appears that Aunt wrote to Mrs. Young, asking her about Georgie's welfare." Darcy had a sinking feeling where this monologue was heading. "Mrs. Young apparently told Aunt Catherine of the aborted elopement, leaving her own role out of the scheme of course." Dread filled the pit of Darcy's stomach. "Aunt Catherine has joined forces with Father to force you to finally marry Anne." Darcy's head dropped into his hands and he groaned.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh, his mother's sister, had been insistent that it had been his mother's wish for him to marry his cousin Anne. His mother had never spoken of it to him, and he had been content to ignore his aunt. Until now, his uncle had stayed out of the argument. "What leverage, other than exposure of Georgiana's mistake, are they prepared to use? Her exposure would injure their place in the ton as much as ours."

"Unfortunately, your father's will apparently has a specific clause in it. While you and I are her guardians, that can be taken away if we are proven negligent. The only way to prevent it is for one of us to marry. Aunt Catherine has 'generously' given you until Christmas to come up to scratch and offer for Anne. If not, they will petition the courts and take Georgie." Darcy closed his eyes, defeated. What other choice did he possibly have? He could almost hear the deathknell of his hopes and dreams of marrying for love and respect. "Apparently, Father is tired of hearing Aunt complain about you and Anne, and in his eyes, she's better than no one." The two men agreed not to mention any of this to Georgiana and soon separated. Darcy lay on his bed, eyeing the table. Unable to withstand the lure of losing himself in someone else's life, he removed the book in order to continue to read.

He was unable to concentrate on her words. Thoughts of his own situation were running rampant in his head. It wasn't as if he hadn't looked through the ton for a wife. The problem, was that the women of his circle were dull and mean with no opinions of their own. But marry Anne? No. He could never. Neither he nor Georgie would benefit from the arrangement. Aunt Catherine had molded her daughter into someone just like herself, selfish and supercilious. Being around her would never be in Georgie's favor. He also couldn't imagine willingly handing his shy, beloved sister over to Aunt Catherine to raise. It seemed he had five and thirty days to meet, woo, and marry a wife.

He quickly ran all the women from his acquaintance through his mind. There was something wrong with each lady, and he couldn't imagine spending his life with any of them. He had just reached Caroline Bingley and shoved her mercilessly aside, when he thought of the latest letter from her brother, Charles. Charles had recently leased an estate in the country. Originally, he had begged Darcy to come and lend his expertise in landowning, but Darcy had felt like Georgiana's emotional health came first. According to Bingley's last letter, he had met yet another "angel" and was planning a ball to celebrate their engagement. He had initially put the invitation in a drawer as he had no intention on leaving Georgie. Now he thought about it again. What would it hurt to go to a ball on the hunt for a wife? If he found no one suitable he could head to one of the seaside towns. He had to try something! A life with Anne as his wife would be bleak and miserable, however he knew he would capitulate to that before he would ever allow his sister to be taken from him. That decided, he went back to the journal, realizing that there was only one entry left, and it had only been written a few months ago.

Perfect Mask by Paradise Lost


	11. Odious, Odiferous, and Offensive

A/N: For those of you who are reading this chapter again and wondering what happened, I'm sorry. I uploaded the wrong chapter! Be sure that Chapter 10 was Gentlemen-like Behavior. Also, only one more background chapter to go...

November 23, 1811 Longbourn

Any reservations Lizzy had about Mr. Collins were magnified by the appearance of the man himself. He was tall and had dark hair, however, he was also fat and his hair was oiled down in order to hide a receding hairline. Everything about him seemed flabby. His bountiful chest was almost feminine in appearance, and his large paunch overflowed his pants. His jowls were so large, it appeared like he had three chins instead of one. The smell that wafted from him, a horrifying mixture of cologne and sweat, reached Lizzy before he did, and she found herself gagging a little. He bowed low, the oiled hair lifting as he did so, exposing a large bald spot on the top of his head.

"Dearest Cousin Elizabeth! How lovely to finally meet you in person!" He proclaimed as he entered the house. He smiled at her, revealing large, crooked, yellow teeth. Lizzy heaved again as she pictured having to kiss him. "I know that you have been anticipating this moment as much as I have! Lady Catherine..." Lizzy zoned out as the words continued cascading from his foul mouth.

"Not likely," she thought, "I would have been ecstatic if you had never shown up at all." She knew she was abnormally grumpy. The arrival of the odious parson combined with the cursed rain that kept her indoors left her feeling grouchy and irritable. Every word he uttered seem to venerate his patroness, reaching a point where Lizzy actually felt uncomfortable with his irreverence, especially since he was parson. No person should be considered above God.

The obese man was shown to the guest room, and as he was led through the hall he managed to remark on every item that he saw, a possessive gleam in his eye. Lizzy couldn't imagine spending her life with the man. Surely, now that Jane was engaged to Mr. Bingley, her father would not force her to marry such a ridiculous man! She would have to have a talk with him as soon as may be.

After leaving the odiferous man in his room, along with a subtle suggestion that he refresh himself, Lizzy made her way into her father's library. She knocked, then opened the door at the quietly-spoken, "Enter."

She crept into the dimly lit room and seated herself in the chair that sat opposite her father. She sat quietly, knowing her father would resent an interruption. Finally, he closed his book and looked up at her. His wrinkled face was so dear to her. She loved her darling papa, and couldn't understand why he was forcing her into such a reprehensible relationship.

"Now that we have met the man," she finally said, "Surely you have rethought your decision to tie yourself to him."

"We are already tied to him as he is my heir." He replied looking over his glasses at her. "You will survive being married to a ridiculous spouse, just as I have." Sympathy for her mother flowed through her as her father continued. "You will marry, then stay here to take care of the estate. I have not changed my mind, Elizabeth." He glared at her then turned his eyes back to his book.

"Mr. Bingley has proposed to Jane!" Lizzy cried in a last-ditch effort to change his mind. "He will agree to take care of my mother and sisters if the worst should happen! Why should I be made to sacrifice myself in marriage to such an odious man?"

Her father reluctantly looked up from his book. "Because you will take care of the estate better than that idiot," he muttered. "If you leave, there will never be another sensible word spoken in this house. You have had your fun in London, it is now time to think about your family. I don't wish to be bothered, Elizabeth. I want to read my books without interruption. Having you married to my heir, and living in the dower house will accomplish that quite succinctly."

"Oh Papa!" Tears welled up in Lizzy's eyes as hopelessness filled her soul. He would not change his mind, which meant that she would have to run away, which would forever cut her off from her family.

She reentered the sittingroom, where the female members of her family were all seated, speaking with Mr. Collins. Her mother was loudly mentioning Jane's engagement ball, and her assurance that he was invited to attend. "Mama," she eyed the fat sweaty man, trying to picture him dancing, "Mr. Collins certainly will not wish to attend a ball and dance. To do so would court a rebuke from the Archbishop or even Lady Catherine."

"Nonsense," said he, "A ball given by a good man to respectable people cannot be evil! I'm looking forward to attending, and dancing with you, Miss Elizabeth. May I seize the opportunity and ask for your first dance?" Not wishing to sit out the entire evening, Lizzy agreed.

Over the next several days, the near constant rain kept the family confined indoors, although no one seem to be bothered by it other than Lizzy. She was in her own personal hell. If it wasn't her mother squealing about Jane's betrothal and Lizzy's upcoming engagement, it was Mr. Collins droning on about how Lady Catherine would be happy to educate her on how to be a proper wife. To make matters worse, Lizzy caught glimpses of what kind of man he truly was.

Oh, his character, which was an odd combination of servility and assertiveness, was certainly unredeemable, and he had an unctuous personality, both figuratively and literally, but his behavior toward women was beyond offensive. He constantly leered at her bosom, which was bad enough, but then she became aware of how he treated other women, particularly those of inferior stations. At first, she wasn't even sure what she saw. It seemed accidental, the way he brushed against their maid, Sally. Then the brushes turned into caresses and pinches. Lizzy knew that at this point, her parents wanted the match badly enough they would not say anything to the disgusting man, so she mentioned nothing to them. She did tell Mrs. Hill about it. Together, they were able to help the young girl avoid the lecherous parson.

The Thing That Should Not Be by Metallica


	12. Good Luck, Goodbye, and God Bless

November 20, 1811 Darcy House, London

Darcy was conflicted. On one hand, he felt sorry that the words poured out on the pages of the journal were coming to an end. On the other, he was being drawn into this unknown woman's life, and now he had his own troubles to deal with. To read or not to read, that was the question. He found himself chuckling at his own foolishness as he opened the book to the last entry.

July 3,1811

For years, I have had my own motto. "Think of the past only as it brings you pleasure." I don't like to dwell on the negative, but instead think about how events have affected my life in a positive way. Through it all; my mother's harangues, my father's indolence, my younger sisters' foolishness, I have held firm. Today, all I can see for my future is hopelessness. I have less than a year before I become of age, but I cannot conceive of avoiding my fate for that long. While Mama has always claimed that I was too plain and too wild to marry, my father has never said much of anything. Over the last few years, he has buried himself deeper and deeper into his library.

His steward, Mr. Peabody, has taken over the running of the estate. I, who am best acquainted with estate matters, have been working in tandem with him. I have never minded doing it. When something needs to happen, I believe that it is each person's responsibility to step into the breach. I never even considered, however, that this would be permanent. I am spending this last summer with my aunt and uncle, as has been tradition for the last nine or ten years. When I get back, I will be forced to accept an offer from a man that I have never even met, my father's heir, Mr. Collins. From his letter he seems to be the most obsequious, idiotic person that I have ever heard from.

My mother is easy to understand. She craves security, especially if my father passes before she does. She wants to stay in her lauded position of Mistress of Longbourn, although how she plans on that if I am married to the Master, I know not. I do know how she thinks. Why waste a favorite daughter on the sycophantic fool when she can force me into acceptance? My father is much harder to interpret. He has always claimed me as a favorite, although admittedly, he has never stood up to my mother when she degraded me or sent me off to stay with my aunt and uncle. I have always thought that showed compassion for me as I have always loved The Gardiners. However, recent events being what they are, I am convinced that it was another sign of his apathy. He has explained that once we are married, we can live in the dower house, and I can continue to look after the estate. Why am I to be punished for his inability to care for the future of his family?

Mr. Collins is the parson to Lady Catherine de Burgh and she sounds like an overbearing snob. I cannot picture my life with a man who exonerates such a woman, above even God. She suggested that he extend an "olive branch" to his family and offer marriage to one of his cousins. Without question, he proceeded to do so, and my father seemingly grasped the opportunity to keep me at home with undue haste.

He is to visit at the end of November, and I am expected to accept his proposal when he makes it. The only benefit, if you can call it that, is that he is required to court me for a week before he makes his proposal. My father says the banns will be called the Sunday before my birthday. This is so I can't object later. I am so angry but I know not what to do. Aunt Maddie has promised that if I make it to London, they will hide me until my birthday, but how can I drag them into this? What does my future hold? I am afraid.

Lizzy

Darcy's hand clenched the book. He wished that he could go find her and rescue her, but he had his own deadline looming. How strange that both of their problems involved, at least somewhat, Lady Catherine. Smiling wistfully, he slid the journal back into the recesses of the drawer. "Good luck, my Lizzy, goodbye, and may I say God bless you." With that, he shut the drawer, and proceeded to his desk where he began to write two letters that he hoped would solidify a better future than he could currently foresee.

The first letter was to Charles letting him know that he would indeed be happy to attend the ball. He explained that he couldn't stay for long. His current plan was to arrive Saturday before the ball and leave a week later. He didn't mention that if he found a perspective wife his plans would change, but he also didn't hold out much hope that he would find her at a country ball. He sat at his desk, deep in thought. Pulling another sheet of paper from the stack, he began a list of traits he wanted in a wife.

A dowry wasn't really necessary, he supposed. Connections to the ton would make her more acceptable to his uncle, but he didn't personally care about those either. Kindness and loyalty were key traits to the future Mistress of Pemberly. Someone who was lively and outgoing would be beneficial to both himself and Georgiana. It would help, he supposed, if she were the daughter of a gentleman and had some training in estate management, although he was sure that Mrs. Reynolds would teach her everything that she needed to know. So, certainly someone who would be willing to be taught was important. As the list grew, he felt less confident that he would ever find a woman to answer all his needs. He had physical needs as well, he thought ruefully, but those would have to come second to the emotional ones of both himself and Georgiana.

He put his list to the side and begin his second letter. This one was more important than the first, but he was unsure of how to word his appeal. Finally, he decided to request an audience. He would have one of the stable lads take it first thing in the morning. Hopefully, by this time tomorrow, he would have some answers. Relying on that hope, Darcy went to bed.

He woke up early, as was his usual habit. After breaking his fast by himself, he handed the note to his butler with instructions for its delivery. By the time Richard and Georgiana appeared, the reply had come, and sure enough, he was granted an audience that afternoon.

When it was finally time to go to his appointment, he explained to Richard where he was going. When they spoke tonight, he would have some definite plans. The trip across town didn't take as long as Darcy had thought, so he arrived to his appointment five minutes early. Fortunately, he was able to enter immediately anyway.

"Darcy!" His godfather greeted him cheerfully. "What can I help you with today?" Darcy seated himself in front of his godfather's desk. Today he would need him to be the Archbishop as well. Darcy explained everything, including the entirety of Georgie's mistake. His godfather listened intently, never interrupting. Once the story had finished, he steepled his fingers as he thought for a few minutes. "All right," he finally replied, "How can I help?"

Darcy felt as if a weight had slightly been lifted. Even if his godfather couldn't help, his willingness to do so was more important. "Once I find my future wife, I am going to need to marry quickly. It must be accomplished before my aunt has time to object. I can only hope that my wife's parents will understand the haste with which it must be undertaken."

"Yes, that is true. It would also look more official and less like an elopement if the marriage is overseen by the Archbishop." Darcy nodded, grateful his godfather had picked up on that. "Here's what I will do. You give me three days notice before your wedding, and I will provide a proper license and officiate the ceremony." Darcy felt an overwhelming sense of relief. "You will have to decide what to do about the settlements on your own. The only thing that I insist on is that she be a daughter of a gentleman. She will have to deal with enough animosity as it is by taking you off the marriage mart." Darcy agreed and left the building with hope and the beginnings of a plan.

That evening, he and Richard sat in his study, sipping French brandy before the fire. "You're going to have to watch your attitude, Darce." Richard finally spoke. Darcy startled. "You are so used to putting that damned mask on in public to frighten off fortune hunters, not that it does much good. But if you insist on acting all proud and aristocratic, you may frighten off the right kind of girl." Darcy agreed, but was unsure of his ability to allow people to see the man behind the mask. Richard eventually toddled off to bed while Darcy sat and watched the flames dance as he ruminated.

A small sound interrupted him. "Brother?" Georgiana hesitantly entered the room. "Will you please let me know what is happening? Don't say nothing, I can tell it is not nothing." Darcy reluctantly decided she had the right to know since her life would be affected, no matter what ended up happening. When he finished, she was in tears. "Oh, Brother," she sobbed, "This is all my fault." Darcy held her in his arms thinking that it didn't matter who was at fault, both of their lives were about to change. He could only pray that it would be for good.

Starts With Goodbye by Carrie Underwood


	13. The Ball

As planned, Darcy had managed to arrive at Netherfield on Saturday. He had not planned the succession of rain that surrounded his arrival, however. The rain managed to keep him indoors and away from the general populace. It was becoming more and more difficult to avoid Caroline, and any hopes he had for finding a mate in this tiny town were dwindling. He supposed that at the very least, he could practice his attitude change at the ball, although the idea of purposefully exposing himself to strangers was still embarrassing and made him feel self-conscious.

He would leave on Saturday, he decided, as he had planned. He would spend two weeks in Bath, and the final ten days in Brighton. If he hadn't found wife by then, it would be too late, and he would have to propose to Anne. This decision made, he spent his energy in trying to calm Charles down. He hadn't been able to see his betrothed since he had delivered the invitations to the ball, and was driving the entire household insane with his constant pacing.

While the rain continued to come down in sheets, Caroline harassed the staff as they decorated for the ball. Her constant criticism caused a headache to build in Darcy's brain. Every time they were in the same room, she attempted to corner him and complain about the family of Charles' betrothed. Apparently they were, with the exception of Jane herself, low-class, loud, obnoxious guttersnipes. Darcy thought they would fit right in with Caroline. He couldn't wait for this ball to be over and get on the road to Bath.

November 26, 1811 Hertfordshire

Tuesday morning dawned bright and clear. The rain had finally ceased, and the early morning sun peeked over the horizon, drying up the muddy roads. Darcy prayed that the rain would stay away, at least until he left. He wasn't sure he would survive being cooped up in the house with Caroline for company again. Joy filled his soul is he took one of Bingley's geldings out for a gallop. Racing across the fields with no concern for anything other than the wind whipping through his hair caused some of the heaviness that had settled over him to lift. He reentered the house covered in mud, but the imprisoned feeling had finally abated.

Lizzy greeted the morning with delight. She quietly dressed and crept down the stairs, avoiding the creaky spots. After entering the kitchen, she grinned at Cook and grabbed a hot muffin on her way out the back door. The cool, crisp air soothed her temper, and she was able to shove all thoughts of Mr. Collins from her mind as she marched down the muddy path. By chance, she found herself at the stile that separated Longbourn from Netherfield. Stepping up onto the lower rung of the fence, she stared out into the field. A horse and rider thundered across the expanse, too far away for her to identify, but she didn't think that it was Mr. Bingley. She watched the pair until they disappeared, finished her muffin, and turned to go back to the house. She was determined to enjoy the ball tonight, regardless of the fact that her first dance was with Mr. Collins.

That night, the Bennets quickly removed their outer garments and proceeded through the receiving line. Lizzy realized that something had lodged inside of her dancing slipper, and slipped into the empty ladies retiring room. She slid her shoe off to search for the foreign material that had been painful to her foot. As she leaned over, effectively hiding herself from view, she heard the rustling of skirts.

"Oh Jane!" The whispered voice was clearly that of Caroline Bingley. "He is here! It is perfect! We have until Saturday to compromise him. We must come up with a plan!"

"Caro, dear," Jane's voice was equally hushed, "It is the easiest thing in the world! You can lure him out onto the balcony and fall into his arms at the opportune moment. Or, better yet, sneak into his rooms at night. You are staying in the same house, you should easily be able to arrange time to be alone with him. Just plan ahead, and make sure the correct people discover you."

Lizzy felt as bad for the unknown man as she felt for Mr. Bingley. Perhaps, if the right moment came, she could warn him, whoever he was, of Miss Bingley's plans. The whisper of skirts heralded the departure of the shifty pair, and Lizzy cautiously peeked around to the back of her chair to be sure they were gone before leaving herself.

Darcy avoided joining the receiving line by staying in his room until he could hear the cacophony of musicians tuning their instruments and the clamor of people attempting to talk over each other and the ensuing noise. He approached the ballroom with a certain amount of trepidation. Certainly, the first dance was to be avoided. He couldn't risk raising expectations, especially those of Miss Bingley. Her constant attention was starting to concern him, and he was worried she might attempt to compromise him. That was a circumstance he just couldn't afford. Perhaps he would leave sooner, rather than later.

He skirted the outside of the ballroom, his discomfort with the sea of unfamiliar faces rising to stifle his manufactured courage. His face tightened into his routine of pride and arrogance until he realized what he was doing and forced himself to relax and even smile slightly. The expression did not come naturally, and he imagined that he looked ridiculous.

Lizzy decided to avoid Mr. Collins for as long as she could. Oh, it would not last forever, as she had to dance the first with him, but she was determined not to be stuck talking with him as well. She found herself avoiding most of her neighbors as well, as all she received was congratulations on her upcoming engagement or excitement over Jane's good luck, both of which had negative connotations with her. No one could understand her reluctance to marry her father's heir. It was, by societal standards, a good match, and all Lizzy could ever expect.

She found herself hiding in the back of the room behind a column, her discomfort growing by the minute. She heard the tread of a shoe to her left, and turned, hoping she had not been discovered. Her view of the man approaching her made her breath catch in her chest. His strong, muscular build, his dark, curly hair, and his stunning blue eyes were so familiar to her. She released her breath with a whispered, "Fitzwilliam."

Darcy could swear he heard his name, but no one called him Fitzwilliam, so he theorized that he must have imagined it. A movement caught his attention, and he turned to face one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Society stated that a woman could not be beautiful without being tall and blond, like Bingley's angel, but Darcy found that this pixie with the chocolate curls and grass-green eyes called to him. His smile widened as she curtsied to him. He wished to be introduced to this woman, but Bingley was nowhere to be seen.

Dimples! Lizzy could never have imagined the man to have dimples. Somehow it made him even more approachable and, wanting to finally speak with the man, she decided to break the rules of propriety. After all, what did she have to lose? "Good evening, F... Mr. Darcy." Heavens, how would she ever explain how she knew his name before being introduced?

He appeared slightly startled, although his smile remained radiant. "Good evening. I apologize, but have we met before? I would surely remember meeting you."

"We have not, but my sister is to marry your friend." She glossed over her mistake, unwilling to lie to him, but telling a man you had never met that you loved him was simply not done. "I am Elizabeth Bennet."

His eyes, which had never left hers, widened. "Lizzy?" He whispered in astonishment.

"Why yes, that is the name I prefer, although perhaps it would be more appropriate to call me Miss Elizabeth when we are in company." She smiled, happy beyond belief at his own slip of the tongue.

"Of course, I apologize Miss E... No," he spoke thoughtfully, his gaze boring into hers. "I must call you Miss Lizzy at least, for that is the only name that fits you."

She happily agreed, and the two stood in the shadow of the column speaking about nothing in particular until it was time for the first dance. "May I have this dance, Miss Lizzy?"

"Oh, how I wish it were possible, but my first has been promised to my cousin, Mr. Collins." Suddenly, her predicament, which he should not have been cognizant of, came back to him. An idea formed in his head, and he couldn't contain his grin.

"May I secure the supper set then? I have a proposition for you, but I need the extra time to fully explain myself." Lizzy agreed, then left to find her partner.

The dance was as horrible and embarrassing as she had expected. Mr. Collins was a truly awful dancer, turning the wrong way at times and bumping into others in the line. To make matters worse, was how he kept brushing his body against hers, and touching her in a way that was most uncomfortable. After it was over, he led her to her mother, and requested the supper dance. Happily, though she did try to hide her delight, she informed him that it was taken. He seemed incongruously angry, and Mrs. Bennet added her glare to the parson's.

"Elizabeth, you must dance with Mr. Collins. He is to be your betrothed."

"I did dance with him, Mama, and he is not my betrothed yet." Her partner for the second dance came to claim her, and she gladly left the two fuming people behind. The rest of the evening until supper seemed to drag on. Lizzy saw Mr. Darcy dance the second with Jane and the third with Miss Bingley. Eventually the supper dance was announced, and he approached her. He offered his hand, and they touched for the first time. A shocking zing zipped through her fingers as they touched his and she looked up to find an astonished look on his face. Apparently, he had felt it too.

During the first part of the dance, both partners were silent. It was not an uncomfortable silence, however, and each look that passed between the two was fraught with meaning. Darcy finally found his tongue, and begin to explain his own conundrum. "So, as you see," he finished, "I need to marry as soon as may be."

"That is quite the predicament, Mr. Darcy. Do you have a specific woman in mind? Miss Bingley perhaps?" A shudder ran through him at the thought, but Lizzy continued before he could speak. "That reminds me. Miss Bingley is planning a compromise with someone. If I do not miss my guess, that someone is you. If you do not wish to have her as your wife, you must be vigilant during this visit."

"Thank you for the information, Miss Lizzy. I will indeed be careful." He smiled gratefully. "To answer your question, I have not had a specific woman in mind, until tonight."

Lizzy's breath caught again. Did he mean what she hoped he meant? "What happened tonight?" She asked, breathlessly.

"I met you, Miss Lizzy." His gaze was deep and serious. "I understand that Mr. Collins is prepared to offer for you, but hasn't yet?" At her nod, he continued, "He seems like a ridiculous man, and I am willing to offer you another choice." The dance ended, and the crowd turned to enter the dining room. Darcy held her back in the abandoned ballroom. "Miss Lizzy, would you marry me?"

She blinked, unbelievingly. Until today her life had looked so bleak, every idea for escape ended with her being alone for the rest of her life. But now, it seemed as if a light had entered her soul, pointing down a path that led to friendship and, hopefully, love. "Yes, F... Mr. Darcy. I will."

He dared not kiss her, not with the potential of unseen eyes catching them and spreading tales. Already, they had been away too long. He offered her his arm and together they entered the dining room. Plans would have to be made.

Call Off The Search by Katie Melua


	14. A Morning Meeting

November 27, 1811 Hertfordshire

The morning after the ball, Lizzy woke as early as was her wont, though she had only gone to bed a few hours before. She nervously dressed herself as she considered the previous night. How miraculous that Fitzwilliam Darcy should appear in her life, just when she needed him the most. That he should need her had been a boon she would never have imagined. During dinner, they had arranged a meeting for this morning, and Lizzy silently hurried down the stairs and out into the yard, foregoing her normal muffin. She just didn't think she'd be able to stomach anyting until she had talked to Fitzwilliam. Truthfully, she was almost afraid that the entire night had been a dream!

After sitting at supper together, they had mutually agreed to avoid each other for the rest of the evening as both of them had their own reasons for secrecy. Every time Lizzy's eyes were drawn toward Fitzwilliam over the course of the night, which happened more often then she would choose to admit, his focus centered on her as well. Lizzy wondered how they were fooling anyone, the atmosphere between them was heavy with something she could not or would not define, but no one had seemed to notice.

Darcy had not slept for long, but woke with an irrepressible energy. He had spoken with Parker after retiring to his rooms about the possibility of Miss Bingley's plans to compromise him. Parker was familiar with her dreams to become Mistress of Pemberly, indeed all of Darcy's servants were, and every single one of them was against the idea. Parker would be willing to do anything to prevent this from happening, and decided to spend his nights in his master's dressing room. He would keep the doors to the bedchamber locked as much as he could. Miss Bingley would not compromise his master on his watch.

Upon waking and dressing in his riding clothes, Darcy headed directly toward the stables, eschewing the breakfast room. He was anxious to discover what Lizzy had accomplished since July. The same horse as he had used the day before was quickly saddled, and before he knew it, he was mounted and on his way to the fence between the properties.

He got there before she did, and worried momentarily that she might not show up. No, she would be there eventually. After meeting the slimy man intended to be her betrothed, he was positive that she would not be changing her mind. As he stood beside the horse, petting his forelock, he tried to decide what really bothered him about the parson. Besides being the man who wanted to steal his Lizzy, there was also something indiscernible that left a bad taste in Darcy's mouth. His thoughts were interrupted by a sweet voice that never failed to produce a frisson.

As she approached the fence, Lizzy saw Fitzwilliam's tall silhouette, and her heart sped up. She was unsure of how to hide her love and desire for him, but decided that she must in order to grant him the time to fall in love with her. She hoped that he would, as the only thing worse than a marriage with no love, was one with unrequited love. "Good morning, Mr. Darcy."

He turned, a smile twisting his lips and highlighting his dimples. "Good morning," he replied. "Do you suppose we could use our given names when we are in private, like this? We are engaged, after all, and I would love to hear my name on your lips." His treacherous gaze was drawn to that part of her anatomy.

A soft, dreamy smile appeared. "I would love that, Fitzwilliam." He looked from her lips to her eyes. Today they were a darker shade of green, like evergreens in the middle of winter. He couldn't wait to discover how many shades they had.

They took turns speaking, each going into more detail about the circumstances that had brought them to this point. The only thing that Darcy kept back was Georgie's mistake. He wanted her to meet his sweet, shy sister before he told her the whole, horrible story.

When Lizzy expressed concern over Mr. Collins' behavior, Darcy was appalled. "No one should live in fear of their safety. Will your father not keep his servants secure from harm?" Lizzy shook her head, ashamed at yet another example of her father's indolence. "Would she welcome a change of employers? You will need your own ladies maid, if you enjoy her company."

With that, part of their plan was solidified. Lizzy felt somewhat nervous about exposing herself to the maid, but she had seen the fearful glances toward the lecherous slob. Having Sally along would help maintain propriety for their trip, as she would be an excellent chaperone. Anything that helped their escape look less like an elopement would be siezed.

With that in mind, they decided that waiting to leave until late on Friday or even early on Saturday would be smart. Darcy was planning on leaving that day anyway so his absence wouldn't be noticed. Lizzy's would be, but Mr. Bennet could not possibly find her in time if she avoided the Gardiner's home. She wanted them at her wedding, so they would have to find some way to notify them, but she couldn't stay with them.

Lizzy had initially been worried when she mentioned her relatives in trade, but Darcy seemed to accept them with alacrity. He almost appeared eager to meet them. She knew that they would like each other once they met, but she had expected more arrogance from the wealthy man.

Realizing how much time had passed, they agreed to meet again the next morning, and departed to their separate homes. As Lizzy raced through the trees, she realized that she would have to trust one more person with the truth of her plans. She only hoped that she could be trusted. Breathing heavily, she entered through the back door only to find Mr. Collins looking horrified.

"Were you running, Cousin Elizabeth? Lady Catherine will not be pleased. Not pleased at all. I imagine I will have to punish you often to encourage ladylike behavior." A sick smile grew on his lips, and he waddled out of the kitchen mumbling, "I must write to my honorable patroness to get her instructions on the best method to..."

Mrs. Hill and Cook watched him leave with identical looks of horror. "Oh Miss Lizzy," Mrs. Hill whispered, "You cannot marry that man. He will certainly destroy you in one way or another." Cook nodded in agreement, but stayed silent. "Perhaps if you can get to London, your aunt and uncle would be able to assist you?" Cook looked hopeful at this suggestion.

Lizzy looked between the two, then glanced at the door, hope unfurling in her chest. "Perhaps," she whispered, "You could aid me in leaving the house without notice very early Saturday morning?" Both women nodded enthusiastically. "I will speak with you more when the time grows near." After a quick hug to the servants who appeared to care for her well-being more than her own parents, she went to her room to ready herself for the day.

Runaway by We The Kings


	15. Wickham

November 27, 1811 Hertfordshire

As today was Wednesday, Darcy decided to send two expresses so that everything would be ready for Monday. The first one was to his solicitor, letting him know he was getting married and instructions on how he wanted Lizzy's settlement set up. He requested a rush order on the job, and hoped it would be done in time. Regardless, he would be marrying Lizzy on Monday.

The second letter was to his godfather. He explained the situation the best way he could, and requested that Lizzy be allowed to stay with his family over the weekend. He again expressed the need for speed and secrecy. Once they were completed, he decided to take them to the express office himself.

Charles noticed his departure and, after asking about his destination, invited himself along. As Darcy enjoyed Charles' company, he happily accepted. The two men rode slowly, enjoying their conversation and time together. Once the errand had been completed, Charles suggested heading toward Longbourn. Darcy agreed, hoping he could hide his dislike for Lizzy's family, particularly Jane.

Reaching the other end of town, however, they saw five familiar women speaking to several men in uniform. As they approached the group, the men were revealed as officers in the local militia. One of them looked familiar to Darcy, but he could only see him from the back. At their approach, the men turned at the sound of the horses' hooves. Darcy could barely withhold his gasp as the man was revealed. Wickham!

After Lizzy got dressed and ate her breakfast, the entire family was awake. Mrs. Bennet was experiencing her typical headache after an overindulgence of punch the night before, and kept rubbing her temples. Kitty and Lydia were very excited at having danced with so many handsome officers, and were arguing over who had been the most admired. After reprimanding her youngest daughters several times for an overabundance of noise, Mrs. Bennet finally suggested they all walk to Meryton as the day was pleasant and they hadn't been there in some time because of the rain.

Each of the girls thought this sounded like a good idea, even Mary. This could have been because she was hopeful that her sheet music had finally come in, but Mrs. Bennet was not going to argue with success. Even better, Mr. Collins decided that his fair cousins needed his guidance and chaperonage, so Mrs. Bennet anticipated a full hour of quiet.

Lizzy was less pleased at the idea of being in charge her overzealous sisters as well as suffering through Mr. Collins' attentions. Add to that the fact that Jane was no longer interested in making her life easier, Lizzy anticipated a trip to town that would drive her to Bedlam. Nevertheless, she had agreed to the trip, so go she must.

The walk into Meryton began in a much more pleasant fashion than she had imagined. The entire group seemed content to enjoy the sunlight. If Mr. Collins venerated his patroness and the roads surrounding her estate, it was no more than usual, and easily ignored. It wasn't until they had reached the outskirts of the town that the mood changed.

Kitty and Lydia caught sight of the group of uniformed men before any of the rest, and as was their wont, started simpering and calling out for attention. Lizzy felt a blush heat her cheeks as she hissed at them, "Quit flirting with the officers!" Instead of heeding her warning, her sisters skipped across the street to join the men.

"Good morning, Captain Carter," Kitty cooed. "How are you this fine morning? I enjoyed our dance last evening, and I hope we can repeat it again soon." She fluttered her lashes at him as she curtsied.

"I'm sure you boys have never danced with prettier girls than last night," Lydia angled for a compliment. "Oh, who is your companion? I'm sure I have never met someone so handsome, sir!" She brushed her fingertips against the wool sleeve of the man in a forward manner that made Lizzy want to snatch her sister and march her home.

"I am George Wickham, and have recently become a Lieutenant in the militia. I am so pleased to meet such friendly young ladies." His voice was smooth and warm, and his smile was as charming as it had been in his portrait. If Lizzy had known nothing about the man, she might have fallen for the persona of friendliness and openness that he portrayed. Unfortunately for him, she remembered the look on Mrs. Reynolds' face and she couldn't help stepping back, wariness infusing her movement.

Moments later, two sets of hoof beats intruded on the conversation. Both groups turned to view the approaching gentleman, and Lizzy was relieved to see Fitzwilliam. He would know how to handle the scoundrel.

Wickham's face paled as he recognized Darcy, before transforming into a knowing smirk. It very plainly said, "If you say anything, I can ruin your sister's future." Darcy was as angry as he had been in July. He just could not seem to rid his life of the louse. For one brief moment of insanity, he wished he'd taken Richard up on his offer to call him out, but besides the need to avoid the gossip, he had no wish to see his favorite cousin end up in prison.

This time would be different. Wickham had always seemed to be one step ahead of Darcy, but he had made a huge mistake when he involved his innocent sister. Darcy smirked. Yes, this day had been coming for a long time, and vengeance was going to feel good.

He looked toward Lizzy, who appeared leery of Wickham. That was new. Most times he could charm any woman. His Lizzy was obviously more intelligent than your average miss, not that this surprised him. He smirked again, savoring the words he was about to speak.

"Wickham. What are you doing in this part of England?"

He seemed surprised that Darcy was speaking to him. "Darcy. I've joined the militia." He gestured to his uniform.

"Hmm, I wonder how you managed that with your money problems." Darcy effortlessly dismounted and stepped closer to the group of ladies.

Wickham shuffled uneasily and spoke somewhat sulkily. "I do still have some friends, even if we have fallen out."

Darcy smiled humorlessly. "I'm not sure we were ever friends, George. Well, I've been very busy since July," he remarked offhandedly, taking another couple of steps toward Lizzy and her sisters. Wickham glared at him suspiciously. "I've been in Lambton, London, and even Ramsgate, buying up specific debts. Would you like to guess how much these debts add up to?"

The men in Wickham's group looked at him with no little anger. Apparently, he had continued his gambling ways in this town too. Wickham noticed the looks he was receiving and stepped away from them. "Why would I know?"

Darcy was now between his betrothed and his irritant. He relaxed slightly, knowing that she was safe. "Because they are yours, George. Do your friends know that you leave debts behind wherever you go? Both with merchants and personal ones?" Wickham was getting angry, as were his fellow officers, and Darcy didn't want to risk anything being said about Georgiana. "It's close to £3,000. That could put you into debtor's prison for a very long time. But I have another offer for you, and am willing to talk to you about it. Shall we go to the inn? Gentlemen," he addressed the other men, "I am willing to cover any IOUs, but only up to a total of £100. First come first serve after George and I complete our business." Turning, he faced the ladies. "I apologize for speaking of such things before you, but it truly couldn't be helped. Charles will see you home, and I will hope to see you again some other time. Perhaps tomorrow." He looked at Lizzy as she nodded minutely. Bowing, he stepped away, even as their male escort started squawking his protests.

Lizzy watched Fitzwilliam walk away, mindlessly eyeing his backside flex with each step. Realizing what she was doing, she turned toward her cousin, her cheeks flaming. He was fussing about how young ladies should never be exposed to this kind of behavior, and how Lady Catherine would be seriously displeased. Jane was already hooking her arm with Charles', and her youngest sisters were giggling at what they had witnessed. It seemed no one noticed where her gaze had lingered and she wouldn't learn any more until tomorrow.

Bully by Shinedown


	16. Trust

November 28, 1811 Hertfordshire

Darcy woke up from one of the best night's sleep he had experienced since July. Hopping out of bed, he walked over to the bowl of water prepared for his morning wash, and splashed the cool liquid on his face. Parker heard him stirring and came in to help him shave and dress. He had never seen his master so ebullient in all the years he had served him. The word going through the servant's hall at home had been that the Master had finally decided to marry, but there were also rumors of possible reluctance on his part. Fortunately, according to Mr. Darcy himself, Miss Caroline Bingley was not the woman he had chosen, and presumably neither was Miss Anne de Burgh. He had never believed those rumors, and as he wiped the remnants of shaving soap from his master's chin, he decided that he would know the truth whenever the master saw fit to tell him. That moment came much sooner than he expected.

"Parker, I have to discuss some things with you." Darcy spoke as his valet helped him with his riding jacket. "I know you don't contribute to the rumors, but I also know that you are aware of them too." Parker nodded and Darcy continued. "I am to be married, but there are some... difficulties with my betrothed's family. We will be leaving here very, very early on Saturday. Preferably around three or four in the morning. Can you have me packed by tomorrow night so there will be no complications on my end?"

"Yes. Yes, sir." Parker was flabbergasted. He racked his mind on the ladies that they had encountered in the area, and could not fathom who his new Mistress was.

"Now, I am expected to leave on Saturday, so there is no great secrecy involved, however, I do not want any rumor that anyone is to travel with me, or any speculation on where I am going. According to my itinerary, I am going to Bath." Darcy frowned momentarily. "I have a suspicion that as the time of my departure draws near, Miss Bingley may become desperate, so we need to be extra cautious."

"Yes, sir," Parker agreed, "That is the ongoing rumor here, sir. I am sleeping in the other room, as we discussed, and I have been keeping your chambers locked as well. Are any other precautions you would like me to take?"

Darcy smiled. "I don't really know, I am just worried that at the last moment this will all fall apart. Thank you, Parker. You're a good man."

"Thank you, sir. You can count on me to do my best to make sure your wishes are carried out, sir. Are you willing to tell me who our new Mistress will be, or would you prefer to keep that to yourself, sir?"

Darcy smiled, showing his dimples, which astounded Parker again. He glanced around, and then lowered his voice. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet. My own Lizzy." With that, he left the room to head toward the stables. Parker stood still for a moment longer, thinking of all he had heard about Lizzy Bennet. Yes, she would be perfect for his Master.

Darcy stopped to notify his coachman of his plans for departure, omitting the need to collect two additional passengers for the moment, then mounted his horse to head for the fence. He was not the first to arrive this morning, and he could see his Lizzy pacing back and forth and swinging her bonnet, her riotous chocolate curls framing her face. She smiled at him as he approached, and although he was slightly anxious over this discussion, he was very pleased with her welcome.

Lizzy had not slept well. Besides the questions regarding Wickham tumbling around her head, there was an underlying feeling of unease about Mr. Collins. There was no reason to think he would attempt to compromise her, according to all involved, she was as good as engaged to him, but there was something about his behavior since just yesterday that made her apprehensive.

As she crept out of her room, she cast a fleeting glance down the hall to the guest room. No one was there, so she continued down the stairs. She greeted Cook as she grabbed her muffin and left the house, breaking into a run as soon as she was out of sight.

She arrived at the fence completely out of breath, but apparently first this morning. She tore her bonnet from her head in agitation, and marched back and forth, trying to put a finger on why she was so bothered by Mr. Collins' behavior. Perhaps it was his promise of punishment, but then Lizzy remembered the look of pure pleasure on his face when he talked about said punishment. Yes, he would be a man who would hurt his wife, and enjoy it.

Hoof beats over packed earth brought her out of her contemplation. She turned, smiling at her betrothed. He would never let any harm come to her. She wasn't sure how she knew this, but know it she did. "Good morning, Fitzwilliam!" She greeted him with pleasure.

"Good morning, my l... Lizzy." Good grief, he couldn't call her his love, not yet. Although she claimed to love him, she didn't know all his failures, not yet, but she was about to, and he wasn't sure her fledgling love would survive the story.

She could tell he was anxious. "Fitzwilliam, you do know that you don't have to tell me anything. I will be happy to hear the story of that man, but I don't have to. I trust you."

At those words, Darcy's will broke, and he cupped her beautiful face in his large hands and lightly touched her lips with his, noticing her darling freckles as he got close. "Darling Lizzy, you cannot know what that means to me. I will tell you the entirety of my dealings with Wickham, though I'm afraid it does not paint me in a very good light. We grew up together, and as children were almost as close as brothers." He told her everything, including Georgie's failed elopement.

"Oh, your poor sister! Has she fully recovered?"

Inwardly, he shook his head in disbelief. Lizzy was more compassionate than his own family! "She is getting there. She has a new companion who is helping, and she is about to receive a new sister as well." He smiled at her, but she only looked worried.

"I'm not sure I will be good for her. I have not had very good luck with the sisters that God has given me." She bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes, the liquid giving them a shade even brighter than grass.

"Lizzy, you will be the perfect sister. Worry not." He brushed the tears from her cheeks, and continued. "Yesterday, I made sure that none of us will ever see that man again." At her questioning glance, he chuckled. "No, I didn't call him out, although I wished to. Instead, I offered him a one way ticket to the New World, with the caveat that if he returned I would call in his debts and he would likely be transported. He left last night, and hopefully, by the time we get to London, he'll be gone. Speaking of which," he reminded himself of the plans he had made without her, "Would you mind leaving as early as three or four on Saturday morning?"

"Yes, although four might make more sense than three. That way it is still dark, but won't stay that way for long so it will be safer for the coachman."

"See, this is why I need you in my life. You think of everything." She blushed beautifully, and they spoke for a few minutes longer before separating. They would not see each other again before they left, as they didn't want to draw any attention to themselves.

Can I by Tedy


	17. A (Not Quite) Midnight Ride

November 29, 1811 Hertfordshire

Thursday had dragged after his meeting with Lizzy, Darcy thought. Now the was one more day before he could leave and never be separated from the woman he was quickly falling in love with. Her words had drawn his attention, but they were nothing compared to the woman herself. She was so vibrant and honest. Now that he had met her, he would never be able to picture himself with another woman. He couldn't wait to marry her and claim her as his own, binding her permanently to him.

He was due to have breakfast with the family as it was his last morning there, and he was expected soon, so he walked to his dressing room to speak with Parker about his outfit for the morning. They had been there mere minutes before they heard a door to his chambers opening. It sounded like the servant's entrance, and the two men eyed each other. Neither man had requested a maid. Before either of them could move, someone knocked in the door to the hallway. Knowledge lit both of their faces simultaneously as they realized that the moment of compromise had come.

Parker held a finger in front of his mouth, suggesting silence, then held a palm up causing Darcy to stay where he was. He approached the door, noting there was no one in the chamber. There was no surprise when the opened door revealed Bingley. "Oh, Parker. I got a note telling me Darcy was feeling ill. May I see him?"

"Certainly, sir. I am unsure of who would have sent a note as my Master is in his dressing room reading himself for the day."

"Hmm, that is odd." As they stepped into the room, the door to the bathing chamber slid open, and Caroline Bingley stepped through it dressed more provocatively than either man would ever care to see.

"Darling," she purred, "Did you miss me?" She caught sight of the men, and her lips formed a practiced o. "Dear me, it appears we've been discovered, Dar..." She trailed off as she realized her intended victim was not in the room.

Parker quickly interfered before Miss Bingley could say more. "Miss Bingley, what in heavens name are you doing in here? You certainly were not in here even five minutes ago when I woke Mr. Darcy."

She looked down, as if she were embarrassed. "Actually, I spent the night in here," she claimed, looking through her lashes at her brother. "I'm sorry, Charles, but we just could not resist each other any longer."

Parker could see that Mr. Bingley was quickly escalating into anger. "I beg to differ Miss Bingley, but I have been sleeping in here each night we've been here, and you were not in the room last night, or indeed any other night." He looked at the astonished man next to him. "I am sorry, sir, but the rumors were that Miss Bingley was contemplating a compromise, so I have been staying close to Mr. Darcy to prevent one from occurring, and I can assure you that she was not in this room for any length of time. Mr. Darcy has not seen her dressed like that, as he is in the dressing room, like I said when I answered the door."

"That's right, you did." Charles Bingley glared at his nearly nude sister. "Caroline, get something on and remove yourself from this room! I'll be lucky if Darcy ever speaks to me again! You are going to stay with our aunt in Scarborough, and that is that! You've already been told that Darcy would never marry you! I'm beyond belief you would try something like this!" He continued muttering angrily as he hauled his sister from the room. At the doorway, he paused and turned back toward Parker. "I'll meet Darcy in the dining room in twenty minutes, if he's still willing to eat with us after this incident."

Parker smiled. "I'm sure Mr. Darcy will not hold the behavior of your sister against you, sir." The Bingley siblings left the room, closing the door behind them. Parker opened the door to the dressing room to find his Master shaking with laughter.

"Oh, Parker, you have saved my future! If you ever need anything, let me know." Darcy was relieved that one more barrier to his happiness had been removed, and hoped that the rest of his day would be much less dramatic.

Lizzy's morning was happily less eventful, although perhaps more disturbing. She missed her morning meeting with Fitzwilliam, but she was able to hike to Oakham Mount, in order to say goodbye to her favorite place. Knowing how angry her family, and her father in particular, would be, she was unsure of when she would come back to the area. She left the house earlier than usual, just before dawn, so she could watch the sun rise over the horizon. When she finally got home, she was met by her cousin, who immediately starting berating her for leaving the house without permission. She stared at him in bemusement. Why he thought she needed to notify him, she was unsure. Throughout the day, however, he continually referred to the following day when he would be able to "take her in hand." She wondered if he truly thought an engagement to be equal to a marriage. Thankfully she would not have to find out.

That night, before the family retired, Jane approached Lizzy. "You are going to be an engaged woman tomorrow, Elizabeth. I know you will never be as happy as I am, but really how could someone like you ever hope for more?" Lizzy smiled inwardly. She thought of the look on her sister's face when she discovered that Lizzy had actually married better than she had. "Tonight, I will allow you to have our room to yourself, so you can develop the proper mindset to accept your proposal, but after that I would like my own room until I marry. You and Mary may share. It will not be for long, since Charles will be going to town to get a special license." Without waiting for a response, Jane walked off to ready herself for bed. Unwittingly, she had given Lizzy just the opportunity she needed.

Sally had been offered the job of Lizzy's personal maid earlier in the day, and was informed of their departure time and the extreme need for secrecy. She had been so grateful and had hurriedly left to pack her things. Mrs. Hill was also aware of her part of the escape. She would let the two girls out of the house, and then lock up after they had left, so it would take longer for the family to realize that she was gone.

Lizzy had been secreting a few things here and there into her bag, but this time alone would allow her to finish the job. If it hadn't been for Jane's recent attitude, she might have thought that she was purposefully helping. She would have to be careful not to leave too much space in her closet as she packed. Fitzwilliam had seemed almost excited to purchase new clothes for her. He had said she deserved to be spoiled, but Lizzy was unsure as to why.

Slowly the family departed to their rooms, and Lizzy was left alone in hers. She turned the key in the lock, as she wanted to be sure to be left undisturbed. It wasn't long before she was finished, and she sat at her desk pondering her decision. Finally, she removed the garnet cross that had graced her neck since her come-out. She placed it on the desk, pulled out a sheet of paper, and began to write.

 _Father,_

 _By now, you have realized that I am gone. I know that you are probably cursing me, perhaps you wish I was never born. Perhaps you think that I am the most undutiful daughter. I tried, Father. I have done my best, but in the end, I could not live the life you wanted to force me into. I hope one day you will forgive me, but I understand if that day never comes. Goodbye. I love you. I forgive you._

 _Lizzy_

Tears ran down her cheeks as she wrapped the cross in the paper then slid the package under her pillow. She unlocked her door then laid down, fully expecting to remain conscious until it was time to leave, but the next thing she knew, Sally was shaking her awake. "It's time for our midnight ride, Miss Lizzy."

Lizzy laughed at the maid's excitement. "It's not quite midnight, you know." The maid glared at her unromantic attitude, and helped her dress in her warmest traveling gown. The two girls crept out of the room, Lizzy clutching her bag tightly. As they excited and shut the door behind them, they could hear another door opening down the hall.

Lizzy froze, almost afraid to breathe. Sally let out a tiny squeak, and Lizzy quickly hushed her. Tugging on the maid's sleeve, she quickly hid in a tiny alcove nearby. She could hear Sally's harsh breathing and hushed her again as she peeked her head around the corner. In the light of a flickering candle, she could see Mr. Collins approach her door. Her breath caught in her chest as he placed his hand on the handle. A noise from down the hall caused Lizzy to duck further into the alcove. Mr. Collins looked toward the sound, then he shook his head, adjusted his nightshirt, and walked back to his room muttering about punishments and marriage nights. "Never!" She whispered.

The rest of their departure went exactly as planned, and soon the pair were walking down the moonlit drive, Mrs. Hill quietly locking the door behind them.

The plan was to meet at the crossroad between Meryton and Netherfield, and the girls arrived shortly before four. The cool of the air was just beginning to seep through their outer garments when the carriage pulled to a stop. They were aided in entering the equipage where Darcy and his valet greeted them. The men filled one side of the carriage, so the women took the other side. The rocking motion action lulled the passengers back into sleep. They remained thus until they rattled onto the cobblestone streets of London.

Run Away With You by Michael Ray


	18. I Do

The early morning fog still lingered as the group approached the city. The hooves and carriage wheels clattering across the cobblestone streets had awakened all four occupants of the carriage, and Lizzy peered out the window through the swirling mist. "We made it," she happily announced to Fitzwilliam.

"We'll head for my godfather's house. I know it's early, but he'll be up. Besides, he is expecting us." Sure enough, the older man was awake and eating his breakfast when they arrived. The weary travelers were invited to join him, which they accepted with alacrity, and Lizzy was introduced to the Archbishop, a man who was much more genial than she had expected.

After they had eaten, Darcy departed, needing to take care of several errands with regards to their wedding. The decision was made that he would come back for dinner, along with his sister. Lizzy was looking forward to meeting Georgiana, but was still nervous when she considered the failed relationships with her own sisters. No, she finally decided, only remember the past as it brings you pleasure.

The meeting with her soon-to-be sister went so much better than she expected. As Fitzwilliam had warned her, Georgiana was painfully shy. It was so bad, that someone else might have seen it for rudeness or arrogance, but Lizzy knew the truth. She spoke of several subjects before finding one that they shared, and the rest of the night was spent in conversation about music. She hoped that eventually, she would be able to draw Georgiana out of her shell, and she knew Fitzwilliam had the same hopes.

It was lovely to be in a semi-public place where they could speak without any fear of being discovered. Lizzy happily learned that her fiancee as open in familiar company as he was with her. She had noticed some behavior that had concerned her when he was in company that he was not comfortable with, and only now realized that her husband-to-be was shy! Well perhaps, in time, she would be able to draw him out of his shell as well. When they left that evening, Fitzwilliam drew her into a small alcove and gave her a kiss that curled her toes. She couldn't wait to be married!

The next day was Sunday and, as she was staying with the Archbishop, she could not avoid church, not that she wanted to. She arrived early and secreted herself in the Darcy pew to avoid any uncomfortable questions. For the same reason, the three of them stayed in the pew until most of the congregation had left after the service. They had lunch with his godfather, then left Georgie there while they went to Gracechurch street to visit with the Gardiners.

A maid ushered them through the door, then went to fetch her mistress. Madeline Gardiner came rushing down the hall, calling her niece's name. "Lizzy! Darling, we've been so worried!"

"Aunt Maddie!" Lizzy laughed, "I'll tell you everything, but first, this is my betrothed, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberly." She proudly announced with a little squeeze of his hand.

Her aunt gaped at her, then said, "I guess we do have a lot to talk about. Let me call your uncle, so everything only has to be rehashed this once." The four of them settled into the sitting room, where tea was delivered and then the door was shut for a modicum of privacy.

Lizzy spoke first, explaining how they met at the ball and both of them were looking for an escape from their desperate situations. She spoke of their instant connection with each other, and Darcy knew that he would eventually have to tell her about the journal. When she eventually finished their story, she invited her relations to attend her wedding on the following day. Darcy seconded her invitation, and told her uncle that he hoped to have the settlement papers in time, but would be happy to have him look over them whenever they arrived. They both accepted, and her uncle expressed his wish to give her away, an idea that was happily accepted.

Then it was her aunt's turn to speak. "Your father was here yesterday. He was very angry, and demanded to know where you were. We had no idea, and told him so, but I'm not sure he believed us." Maddie chewed on her lip. "I'm not sure how long he would have stayed, interrogating us, but an urgent message from Longbourn arrived about an hour after he did. He refused to tell us what the message said, but made sure to instruct us to tell you that you are no longer his daughter."

Lizzy looked away, her eyes welling with tears. A large, warm hand covered hers, and she looked up to find Fitzwilliam gazing at her with something that looked very much like love shining in his eyes. "He doesn't want me," she whispered brokenly.

Maddie reached over and touched her arm, grabbing her attention. She lay her hand on Lizzy's cheek. "You were always wanted, and loved, by us. We may not have been your parents, but we have always loved you like one of our own. We are so pleased that you have found your way, and are trusting that this will lead to a lifetime of happiness."

"Oh, Aunt Maddie!" Lizzy sobbed as she threw herself into her aunt's arms. "I love both of you more than words could ever say!"

They were invited to stay for dinner, which they did, and then they left to return to the Archbishop's home. After they entered the carriage, Darcy reached across to hold his fiancee's hand. "I hope that you know that you are wanted by me... and my sister as well. We need you, Lizzy, and together we will be a family." She smiled gratefully, and when the Darcys left that evening, she showed her gratitude in her kiss, and left Fitzwilliam's toes curled.

December 2, 1811

It was Lizzy's birthday... and her wedding day! Butterflies fluttered in her tummy when she considered what followed the wedding day. Her aunt was coming to help her get ready after lunch. Hopefully she would be willing to tell her what to expect. If she sat here any longer, she would become too nervous, so she got out of bed and rang for Sally. A nice warm relaxing bath was the first order of the day.

When her aunt finally arrived, she brought a beautiful silk dress with her. It was one that had been ordered before the trip, but was delayed. Now it would be her wedding gown. It was deep emerald green with cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Perhaps it was more appropriate for summer rather than winter, but it was beautiful, and she would not be going outside. As her aunt helped with her dress and hair, she did indeed tell Lizzy what to expect. "If you love each other, there is really nothing to worry about," Maddie wrapped up her speech with a final pat to Lizzy's hair.

Lizzy bit her lip, worrying even more. She loved Fitzwilliam, but she wasn't sure he loved her. What if she was unlovable? Her aunt's words from yesterday came back as she met her eyes in the mirror. No, she was loved, and her husband would eventually love her too.

As she descended the stairs, she came upon her handsome betrothed. He had a box in his hand and was smiling up at her. He opened the box to reveal a stunning emerald pendant. He fastened it around her neck, and the stone came to rest on the top of her cleavage. His eyes darkened as he viewed the stone, but then led her into the parlor without saying a word.

Of course, Georgiana was there, but to Lizzy's surprise there was a strange man standing in the room as well. He was introduced as the Darcys' cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Lizzy was pleased that at least one member of his family supported him.

Her uncle, who had signed the settlements before the ceremony, gave her away, and the couple stood before the Archbishop, their hands entwined.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy, do you take Elizabeth Bennet as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

He looked into his Lizzy's eyes. "I do."

"Elizabeth Bennet, do you take Fitzwilliam Darcy as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

She looked into his eyes and smiled. "I do."

After a beautiful gold band covered in tiny diamonds was slid on Lizzy's finger, the Archbishop announced, "May the Lord in His goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with His blessings. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder."

They signed the register, and they were well and truly married. After a small celebration and dinner, the three Darcys left to make their way home. That night, after Georgiana retired, and Lizzy had been dressed in a new nightgown, Darcy approached his wife's chambers. She sat, her chocolate curls hanging loose down her back to her waist. Her green eyes were luminescent as she smiled at his entrance. He leaned down to kiss her as she reached up on her toes and reciprocated. Unable to resist her siren call any longer, he carried her to the bed and made her his wife.

Darcy slid out of the warm bed as his wife slept. He wanted to stay with her, wanted to wake in the morning next to her, but there was still so much that had not been said. Waiting for her to really love him was a better idea. After softly kissing her luscious lips, Darcy padded across the carpet to his room. His bed looked cold and lonely, especially when compared to the one he left with a willing woman sleeping in it. Sighing, he opened the drawer where he'd placed the journal and removed it. He opened the book, skimming through the entries. " _Somehow, I am in love._ " What if the man wasn't him? He'd banked everything on this marriage and wanted it to be one filled with love. He placed the journal on his desk, resolving to talk to his wife about everything.

Going To The Chapel Of Love by The Dixie Cups


	19. Love and Drama

December 8, 1811

Oh, how Lizzy loved Fitzwilliam Darcy. He had quickly become her whole world. He, along with Georgie and the Gardiners, made up the entirety her family, but instead of feeling cheated, she felt blessed. She was truly and openly loved, even by her husband, although he had not said the words. To be fair, neither had she. One of them would have to be first, and since she was the more vocal of the two, she decided it would have to be her. Perhaps he was in his bedchamber.

She felt awkward as she approached the door that connected her room to his. In the six days since they had married, it had been a portal through which he entered at night, ready and willing to tutor her in the subject of passion. Presumably, he disappeared through it too, after she had fallen asleep. Every morning, she woke to cold sheets on the other side of the bed.

She wanted his company. She ached for it. But not just for those encounters a married couple had. She wanted to wake up next to him. She would tell him her wishes as well as acknowledgment of her love. If he was not there, perhaps she could leave it in a note, so he would have time to think about it. She knew what a thoughtful, methodical man her husband was , so a note may actually be better. Slowly, she turned the handle and pushed the heavy wooden door open.

Her husband's quarters were suited to him, she decided. The furniture placement was similar to her own room, but the colors were more masculine. His bed was much bigger than hers, she noticed with a blush. The smell of his cologne, an enticing mixture of sandalwood and citrus, hung in the air. Since he was not in the room, she looked for a sheet of paper on which to write her note.

On his desk was everything that she needed, plus a book that looked strangely familiar. Picking it up, she opened the front cover. There were the words: Property of Elizabeth Bennet. She stared in shock at the little brown book she had never thought to see again. At the sound of the door closing, she turned to face her husband, the journal in her hand. "Fitzwilliam, what is this?"

He smiled somewhat abashedly. "I really should have told you before. You have every right to be angry with me, Lizzy. I can explain, but I have to tell you a story. It all started with a broken desk." The story was told in fits and starts, the couple peppering each other with heated kisses and whispered touches as their emotions shifted over and over. When he finally finished his tale, Lizzy found herself in her husband's arms, cuddled beneath the counterpane on his bed, his warm scented skin her own personal piece of heaven. Her husband's voice broke through the encroaching darkness. "You must allow me, my darling girl, to tell you how much I admire and love you. I've loved you," he breathed, "Since I read your words in your journal. They gave me incredible insight into your very soul. I have only fallen deeper since we met at the ball." His lips unerringly located the pulse point on her neck.

"You have read my journal, which I suppose I should be angry about, but I can only be pleased that it led you to me," she retorted impishly, "You know that I have loved you for much longer!"

"Oh, I had hoped," he whispered as he kissed her arched brow, "But, you only saw me from afar. I am not an easy man to live with." At her wordless disagreement, he touched the corner of her mouth with his lips. "Could you really love me, faults and all?"

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, no woman could ever love a man more. 'Love looks not with eyes, but with the mind," and I love you to the depths of my soul. In fact," she flirted coquettishly, "That is the reason I am in your bedchamber. I want you to stay with me at night. I need you to stay with me."

Her husband growled as his hands cupped her face. "Ah, Lizzy, quoting Shakespeare in the middle of a romantic interlude! You know this means you will never be rid of me now." He smiled and then kissed her smirking lips. Words were extraneous as he leaned over her and the couple proceeded to display their love for each other. They were not seen outside their rooms until late the next morning, and then only because of the drama that intruded into Darcy House.

They awoke early as was their wont, but decided that taking advantage of the facts that they were still in the same bed and there was nothing between them was a better idea than getting up. They were still cuddling together when the yelling intruded through the heavy oak door. Looking at each other with consternation, they got out of bed then aided each other in quickly dressing. After a quick kiss, they intertwined their hands, and left the room.

They met Mr. Norris on the staircase. "I am sorry, sir." He wheezed, "Your aunt and uncle are here, and would not accept that you were not to be disturbed. They are in the blue sitting room."

Darcy met Lizzy's eyes, and with the tightening of her hand within his, straightened to his full height. "That is fine, Norris. Thank you." With that they descended the stairs and entered the aforementioned room. The varying shades of blue would normally be relaxing, but Lizzy fully expected that the upcoming meeting would not be affected.

A tall man who looked like an older version of the Colonel stood, leaning against the mantelpiece, while an older woman stomped around the room, striking the floor with her walking stick. To Lizzy's horror, there was a third occupant in the room. Mr. Collins stood near to where the woman was pacing, sweating profusely as he bowed each time she drew close. Her hand tightened in her husband's, and he drew her closer. The movement caught everyone's attention.

"Darcy! What is this?" The woman, whom Lizzy presumed to be Lady Catherine de Burgh, snapped loudly. "I have come to refute a rumor I have heard, only to find that woman in your house! What have you to say, Nephew?"

"Cousin Elizabeth, you left before I could propose!" Mr. Collins added. "Our marriage was sanctioned by your parents, yet here you are, with this man who is promised to his cousin. You are wanton, and must be punished." His lips curled into a sickening smile again.

"See? This is perfect! She is betrothed to her cousin as you are to yours. This... this relationship will end now. You know what you stand to lose if you disobey me, Nephew."

"No, Aunt." Darcy spoke softly, but firmly. "We are already married, and it will not be undone." His fingers stroked hers, providing much needed assurance to them both. "My wife was of age when we married, and there was no opposition during the ceremony. The consummation has occurred, so there is no possibility for an annulment. The marriage stands. Besides, I love my wife. I would never settle for another woman." He smiled down at his darling Lizzy, who was blushing, but looking back at him with love shining in her own eyes. "In regards to Georgiana," he speared his aunt with another look, "I fulfilled my father's will. My sister is forever safe from your machinations."

"This is not to be borne!" Lady Catherine practically screamed. "You will get rid of this trollop, and you will marry Anne! It was your mother's dearest wish!"

"No, Aunt, it was no one's wish but your own. And you will treat my wife with respect or you shall be banned from my homes." Mr. Collins opened his mouth only to be stopped as Darcy faced him. "Mr. Collins, I have no idea what you are doing here. As a parson, you surely know 'what God hath put together, let no man put asunder'. You should leave, and never step foot on my property again. If you do, I will notify the authorities."

His mouth moved silently as two footmen escorted him from the room. It wasn't until they reached the front door that the group in the sitting room heard, "But Lady Catherine..." and then the front door closing.

"Uncle, you have said nothing so far.

"Yes, Hugh! You are the leader of this family, instruct your nephew on his duty!" Darcy disagreed with the statement, but let it slide as he looked toward his uncle.

"I truly do not know what you wish said, Cathy. They are married. That is unbreakable, and really all I ever wanted. Anne would have been a good choice, but he has made another. His mother would have wanted him to be happy. Are you happy?"

Darcy smiled widely. "Yes, uncle. Very happy." He looked lovingly down at his wife and squeezed her hand.

"Well, then, that is good. I will have Audra send you an invitation to dinner sometime this week. I look forward to getting to know my new niece better. Come, Cathy." With that, Lord Matlock led his sister out of the room.

Angrily, she cried, "This is not to be borne! I shall carry my point!"

Before they left the house, a reply was heard, "You shall do nothing that brings shame to this family, Cathy. You should go back to Rosings, and speak to Anne about her future."

The drama was over, at least for now. The newlywed couple relaxed into each other, laughing with relief. Darcy leaned over to kiss his wife, a kiss that very quickly led to more, and Darcy was soon seen carrying his wife upstairs, both of them laughing. The servants that saw this slight breach of propriety smiled at each other. Their solemn master had truly found happiness.

Won't Back Down by Tom Petty


	20. Epilogue 1: Caroline

November 29, 1811

Caroline Bingley was livid. She seethed as she stalked across her room. How had her plans gone so horribly awry? Her note to Charles had been delivered, and he arrived promptly, as planned. However, Mr. Darcy had not been in his bed, as he should have been at that time in the morning. She really should have checked when she came in through the servant's entrance, but she had known precisely how she wanted the scene to play out, and had never given any thought to unexpected players.

Scarborough? If Charles truly thought he could just send her away, he should be considered for Bedlam. Caroline had never been one to sit back and let others tell her what to do. If Mr. Darcy was going to Bath to find a wife, then that is where she must go as well. Not for the first time, Caroline was grateful she had begun reading Charles' correspondence, else she never would have discovered Darcy's plan to search for a wife. She wasn't sure why he hadn't siezed the opportunity this morning, but perhaps he needed to see her in company with other ladies, for no one could compare to Miss Caroline Bingley.

Her maid quietly packed her trunks as she sat on her bed, considering. If only Mr. Darcy's valet had been downstairs as she had presumed, she would be engaged to the Master of Pemberly even now. She knew that she had no love for Mr. Darcy, but she deserved the wealth and privilege that he had. She walked to the wall, where she could hear a low rumble of voices on the other side of the only barrier currently between herself and Mr. Darcy. She placed her hand on the cool plaster and whispered, "You shall be mine."

The voices retreated, and the maid left, leaving Caroline to her own disturbed thoughts. The private compromise may not have worked, but he would have a difficult time getting himself out of a public one. Bath would provide plenty of opportunities, particularly if he were more inclined to socialize than usual. Not once did she consider what his thoughts and wishes were.

Deciding it was in her best interest to acclimate her betrothed to her presence sooner rather than later, she attempted to leave her room. The doors to the hallway opened easily enough, but there were two burly footmen blocking her exit. She tried to shove past the men but they were quick to stop her progress and point her back to her rooms. "Master said you're not to leave until he puts you into a carriage in the morning."

This would not do! Caroline continued to seethe quietly until her dinner was delivered to her room. She was furious that her brother was keeping her locked in her room, away from Mr. Darcy, even during dinner! She screamed her fury, throwing a teapot full of hot tea at the maid who had delivered the meal, scalding the poor girl's face. Shards of pottery flew across the room, but Caroline's rampage didn't end there. The rest of her meal went flying, this time aimed at her guards who had entered to investigate the noise. When she had exhausted her ammunition, she threw the heavy tray itself, hitting one of the men on the side of his head as they attempted to help the maid escape from the room. He grunted in pain, but continued his path toward the door. Soon, Caroline was alone again, and her anger was quickly spent as there were no more witnesses to her tantrum.

She sat, thinking, planning, and plotting until darkness fell, invading her room until she could no longer see clearly. Calmly and deliberately, she lit a candle and considered what she would need for her trip to Bath. She packed a bag that she would be able to carry and checked her reticule for money. It would have to be enough, she decided, and stalked off toward the servant's entrance. She placed one hand on the handle, thinking of the last time she had used the door. She pouted when she considered the fact that her betrothed had never had the opportunity to see her lovely peignoir. Releasing the handle, she stepped back into the room and stuffed the frilly, lacy garment into her bag. Nodding with satisfaction, she went back to the door and turned the handle, only to discover that it refused to move. She jiggled it several more times before acknowledging that it would not move. Moving back into her room, she considered her options. A noise outside attracted her attention, and she stepped toward the window. A light near the stables shone through the gloom, and she could see her husband entering a carriage. Caroline flung the window open, shouting into the darkness, "Darling, don't leave without me!" Her husband's carriage started lumbering away, and Caroline began to panic. Had they fought?

A weight in her hands made her look down. Why, she had a bag! Of course, she must have meant to go with him! Silly man, leaving without her! She dropped the bag out the window. It landed with a dull thud, splitting open and spreading clothing on the cobblestones below. Smiling, Caroline sat on the window sash and swung her legs out. Surely her husband would come back for her, after all, she was the mother of their children. Sighing heavily, she let her body tumble from the window. The second thud heard that night was significantly wetter and messier than the first.

Daylight was creeping through the windows by the time Bingley went to fetch his sister. He approached the room and smiled at the guards. "Good morning, gentlemen. How has she been?"

"Things 'ave been quiet, sir," one of the burly men answered.

"Aye," said the other, prodding the small, painful lump on his head, "We've not heard a peep since dinner."

Bingley patted the men's shoulders gratefully as he passed by them to open the door. The room was a disaster, but fortunately he was expecting it. He stepped around broken bits of pottery and glass, eyeing the various piles of food, whose scent still hung in the air. Looking around the room, he couldn't see the one thing he'd come in here for: his sister. "Caroline?"

A slight movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention, and he looked over to find the window open, the drapes twitching in the slight breeze that came through it. A loud commotion outside provoked him to walk to the window and peer out.

A large group of servants were milling about, and Bingley could catch snatches of conversation.

"Poor Mr. Bingley, to have to deal with this..."

"Lost her mind, poor little mite..."

"We'd better be paid extra for cleaning this up!" This last statement brought hisses of approbation from the other servants, and the throng moved enough for Bingley to see what they had gathered around. Tears welled in his eyes as he gripped window frame. He felt, more than saw, the footmen approach.

"Caroline's dead," he whispered in agony.

Slipping Into Madness by KAON


	21. Epilogue 2: The Bennet Debacle

A/N: Now dear readers, we have reached the end of my story. If inspiration strikes, I may do a thirty years later or a fifty years later, but now is the time to tie up a few loose ends. I have attempted to stay within the T rating, and I think I have, but if any chapter has the potential to offend or cross over that line, it's this one. I loved writing this chapter, but be aware that it may possibly trigger sensitive readers. Darcy and Lizzy are not really featured in this chapter, but rest assured that they most certainly lived happily ever after.

P.S. Thank you all for your reviews! Though I had finished writing the story before I posted (hence the fast updates) they were able to help me refine my writing. I truly hope that you guys enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

November 30, 1811 Longbourn

Jane woke slowly, and smiled as she realized what day it was. Elizabeth may be the current favorite, but she was happier and marrying better. She would get her position back! Stretching, she yawned and got out of bed. It would be lovely to have her own room. It would prepare her for marriage. Another smile graced her lips as she pictured the Mistress chambers in Netherfield. Yes, marriage would be good to her.

Some sort of disturbance was going on in the hallway, and Jane opened the door to find out what was happening. At first, she frowned, almost imperceptibly, when she discovered that Elizabeth was missing, but then she smiled widely. This would mean her position as favorite would be granted much sooner than expected! She must see Charles today, so they could marry as soon as may be.

She dressed in her favorite pink frock and ordered the carriage to go to Netherfield. Soon, oh so soon, she would be married to a man that worshipped the ground she walked on, and her mother would have to admit that she, Jane, was better than Elizabeth.

Frustration filled her as she reached Netherfield, but no servants were there to assist her. Even the door was unmanned, and she entered without permission. Well, she didn't really need permission, as the house would be hers soon enough. She followed the hallway back to the sitting room, hoping to find the family. She was in luck, as Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst, and Mrs. Hurst were sitting on separate chairs, staring at each other. No one acknowledged Jane's entry until she spoke.

"Good morning, Charles! I have the most diverting news!" She chirped happily. He stared blankly at her, as if he didn't recognize his own betrothed. "I feel as though we must get our special license sooner rather than later," she continued, blithely ignoring the atmosphere in the room. "We may be married by the end of next week!"

"Jane," Bingley finally croaked, his voice stiff from unshed tears, "We cannot marry any time soon. Caroline had an accident this morning, and was killed." He paused as he swallowed back more tears. "We are now in mourning, and I cannot possibly marry for six months, although a year would be more proper." He stood and approached her, hand outstretched, hoping she would stand beside him during this difficult time. He anticipated a long, happy life with his angel, but the start of it must be delayed.

A look of utter horror crossed Jane's face. "Six months! A year? No, no it must be now!" She grasped the lapels on Bingley's coat, and shook him. "Now is the time! Elizabeth has made a fatal error by running off, and Mama is predisposed to make me her favourite! Marrying a man of wealth would finalize it!" Her eyes glittered with emotion.

Bingley stared down at his betrothed with no little sadness and confusion. He lightly grasped her wrists, causing her to meet his eyes. "Marrying a man of wealth?" He repeated blankly, "I thought we were marrying for love, not so you would be your mother's favorite."

"Of course we are, Charles! But I have always been Mama's favorite, and if my marriage can fortify my position, so much the better!"

Bingley blinked. His entire life was falling to pieces, and he didn't know how to make it stop. "Regardless, I cannot marry you for at least six months." Inwardly, he decided to find out how to break the engagement. After living with Caroline's selfishness, and seeing how that had ended, he had no wish for that kind of behavior in a wife.

"No!" Jane shrieked. "We will marry now!" Her hands tightened as she shook with anger. "You will marry me now!" She repeated.

"No, I will not. In fact," Bingley drew her hands away from him, "I think I will not marry you at all." Her mouth agape, Jane stood there a moment longer before her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell onto the floor in a faint.

Mrs. Nichols was called, and quickly revived the woman with the help of smelling salts. Jane sat in a puddle of skirts, smiling. She would not respond to any questions, she just sat there, staring blankly and smiling, a sticky line of drool dripping from her mouth.

December 15, 1811

Papa was perpetually angry, especially since Elizabeth had left. Mama was fluttering about more than usual, and spared no time for her. Elizabeth had the distinction of being the first of the girls to marry, something that Lydia herself had always wanted. Now that Jane was sequestered away in Bedlam, causing the entire family to be snubbed by their neighbors, Lydia was bored. She crept away from the house, deciding that getting married was the answer to all her problems. Captain Carter had always been one of her favorite officers, and she knew a compromise would lead to a marriage with the man. The hour was late, too late for respectable women to be out of doors, but Lydia paid no attention to anything as she walked into town. As she walked past an alleyway, she was grabbed from behind. "'Ello, lovie. Fancy a tumble?"

She blinked, not understanding what the man was asking. "Um, no?" She tried to pull away, but her arm was held tight in his dirty, sticky hand. "I have somewhere to be, so please release me."

He laughed, "Well, well, we got ourselves a real lady, boys!" Lydia heard several shuffling noises and gaped at the group of men surrounding her. She struggled for several long minutes, but in the end, her body was left in the dirty alleyway, broken and battered.

April 4, 1812

It had been months since he'd been in this room. He hadn't even, until now, allowed the maids to clean the room. Down the hallway, another maid was busily cleaning Lydia's room. Mr. Bennet looked around sadly, thinking of his daughters and wondering where he'd gone wrong. No, this debacle couldn't be his fault, just one of those quirks of fate. He looked up to the maid, standing beside the bed that had been Lizzy's, holding a small package.

He took it and unrolled it carefully. The little cross fell out into his hand, and he stood there staring at it. His favorite child had truly left everything that he had given her behind. He noticed that the paper that had contained the cross had writing on it. Lizzy's writing. Hands shaking, he smoothed the lines of the paper and began to read.

As he read the tear stained note, Mr. Bennet realized the full scope of what his indolence had caused him to lose. He had caused his daughters irreparable damage. Blindly, he left the room, carrying the cross with him to his library. He sat at his desk for a long time, lost in memories. Finally, he opened a small drawer in his desk, fingers running over the object inside. Taking an empty sheet of paper, Mr. Bennet wrote two words on the white expanse. He shakily lay the cross on top of the paper, and breathed heavily.

A loud crack echoed throughout the house, startling the inhabitants. Various members of the family and servants met in the hallway, eyes widened in fear. "We're all to be murdered in our beds," Mrs. Bennet wailed, "Mr. Bennet, Mr. Bennet!" But Mr. Bennet never arrived.

Moments later, Mr. Hill pushed open the library door to find him laying on his desk, blood already pooling around the tiny cross and the words, "I'm sorry." Faces peered around the servant, taking in the grisly scene. A muffled thud drew everyone's attention, as Mrs. Bennet crumpled to the floor. Mrs. Hill had the salts out in a trice, but as she reached her Mistress, she realized that the matron was not breathing. The remaining Bennet girls were orphans.

Mr. Bennet's death brought the arrival of Mr. Collins. He had not managed to find a wife, and decided that a Bennet would do as well as anyone else and, within a week, he was married to Mary. She was a submissive, obedient wife, but unfortunately Lizzy's premonitions about the man proved to be true, and he would find reasons to beat his wife.

Mary wrote to Lizzy, begging for help, which both she and her husband were happy to provide, regardless of the break in the family. The Darcys showed up, unannounced, one night, prepared to take both Kitty and Mary into their protection. They arrived to find Mr. Collins, shaking with anger, standing over the bloodied body of his wife. After the magistrate was called, and Collins was hauled off to visit the hangman's noose, the Darcys took Kitty and departed for Pemberly.

The entail on Longbourn died with the execution, allowing the girls to inherit the estate, but neither Lizzy nor Kitty ever wanted to see the place again, and Jane had no opinion whatsoever. It sold quickly, and the money went into a dowry for Kitty. With the help of Georgiana and Mrs. Annesly, Kitty became a calm, accomplished woman who specialized in art.

Over the next couple of years, Kitty attended the Season with Georgiana. She had a wariness with most men that crippled her chance to find a husband. Instead, she spent most of her time with her family, and Charles Bingley. No one was very surprised, other than perhaps Kitty herself, when Bingley eventually proposed. Together, they found their own happiness.

Falling Apart by One Desire


	22. Alternate Epilogue

A/N: I didn't love how the story ended, so I rewrote the last two chapters. Some of it stayed the same, but the important parts are much different, and the feeling that the reader is left with is better, I think. I'm much happier now. Hope you like it as well!

November 29, 1811

Caroline Bingley was livid. She seethed as she stalked across her room. How had her plans gone so horribly awry? Her note to Charles had been delivered, and he arrived promptly, as planned. However, Mr. Darcy had not been in his bed, as he should have been at that time in the morning. She really should have checked when she came in through the servant's entrance, but she had known precisely how she wanted the scene to play out and had never given any thought to unexpected players.

Scarborough? If Charles truly thought he could just send her away, he should be considered for Bedlam. Caroline had never been one to sit back and let others tell her what to do. If Mr. Darcy was going to Bath to find a wife, then that is where she must go as well. Not for the first time, Caroline was grateful she had begun reading Charles' correspondence, else she never would have discovered Darcy's plan to search for a wife. She wasn't sure why he hadn't seized the opportunity this morning, but perhaps he needed to see her in company with other ladies, for no one could compare to Miss Caroline Bingley.

Her maid quietly packed her trunks as she sat on her bed, considering. If only Mr. Darcy's valet had been downstairs as she had presumed, she would be engaged to the Master of Pemberly even now. She knew that she had no love for Mr. Darcy, but she deserved the wealth and privilege that he had. She walked to the wall, where she could hear a low rumble of voices on the other side of the only barrier currently between herself and Mr. Darcy. She placed her hand on the cool plaster and whispered, "You shall be mine."

The voices retreated, and the maid left, leaving Caroline to her own disturbed thoughts. The private compromise may not have worked, but he would have a difficult time getting himself out of a public one. Bath would provide plenty of opportunities, particularly if he were more inclined to socialize than usual. Not once did she consider what his thoughts and wishes were.

Deciding it was in her best interest to acclimate her betrothed to her presence sooner rather than later, she attempted to leave her room. The doors to the hallway opened easily enough, but there were two burly footmen blocking her exit. She tried to shove past the men but they were quick to stop her progress and point her back to her rooms. "Master said you're not to leave until he puts you into a carriage in the morning."

This would not do! Caroline continued to seethe quietly until her dinner was delivered to her room. She was furious that her brother was keeping her locked in her room, away from Mr. Darcy, even during dinner! She screamed her fury, throwing a teapot full of hot tea at the maid who had delivered the meal, scalding the poor girl's face. Shards of pottery flew across the room, but Caroline's rampage didn't end there. The rest of her meal went flying, this time aimed at her guards who had entered to investigate the noise. When she had exhausted her ammunition, she threw the heavy tray itself, hitting one of the men on the side of his head as they attempted to help the maid escape from the room. He grunted in pain but continued his path toward the door. Soon, Caroline was alone again, and her anger was quickly spent as there were no more witnesses to her tantrum.

She sat, thinking, planning, and plotting until darkness fell, invading her room until she could no longer see clearly. Calmly and deliberately, she lit a candle and considered what she would need for her trip to Bath. She packed a bag that she would be able to carry and checked her reticule for money. It would have to be enough, she decided and stalked off toward the servant's entrance. She placed one hand on the handle, thinking of the last time she had used the door. She pouted when she considered the fact that Mr. Darcy had never had the opportunity to see her lovely peignoir. Releasing the handle, she stepped back into the room and stuffed the frilly, lacy garment into her bag. Nodding with satisfaction, she went back to the door and turned the handle. The door opened as smoothly as it had that morning, and she smirked at Charles' ineptitude.

She crept down the hallway, once avoiding a maid by ducking into an unused guest room. Soon she was outside, and she stood there momentarily, wondering what her next step should be. She was startled out of her contemplations by the rattling of carriage wheels. Furiously, she realized she had missed Mr. Darcy's departure by mere minutes. Had she left earlier, she may have been able to secrete herself in his carriage! Slowly, she walked toward the drive, considering her options. Perhaps traveling so late was ill-conceived, but she had to escape her brother's notice, and he would be sending her to Scarborough in the morning. She walked toward town, deciding to take the post to Bath.

She had never traveled by post, had never even dreamed it a possibility. She was almost to town when she heard a carriage approaching. Hiding behind a convenient oak tree, she peered at the passing equipage. It almost looked like Mr. Darcy's, but that was impossible as he had left much earlier than she.

Finally, she reached the posting station. The next carriage heading for Bath wouldn't leave for several hours. She felt tired and defeated. Charles would find her, and she would be sent to rot in the North. Sitting at a nearby table, she buried her head in her hands.

"Excuse me, Miss, is this seat taken?" Caroline looked up to see one of the most attractive men she had ever beheld.

"No," she almost whispered, "No one is sitting there."

He sat, smiling at her. "What is a beautiful woman like yourself doing here alone?" He looked around at the other travelers. "Unless you are not alone," he suggested.

"I was going to Bath, but I am second guessing myself." The truth tumbled from her mouth, quite accidentally. "Seemingly, I have made some poor decisions recently, and I am attempting to escape the consequences. I wish to marry and become a leader in society, and I fear that will never happen now."

"I may actually be able to help. I was offered the opportunity to travel to the Colonies, and am heading to London before sailing to my new home. I am sure an ambitious lady like yourself could make a name for herself in the New World. What do you say?"

She looked at the man, her stomach clenching with anticipation. "If we are to marry, I must know your name."

He smiled, his teeth gleaming. "I am George. George Wickham."

Change Your Mind by Sister Hazel

November 30, 1811, Longbourn

Jane woke slowly and smiled as she realized what day it was. Elizabeth may be the current favorite, but she was happier and marrying better. She would get her position back! Stretching, she yawned and got out of bed. It would be lovely to have her own room. It would prepare her for marriage. Another smile graced her lips as she pictured the Mistress chambers in Netherfield. Yes, marriage would be good to her.

Some sort of disturbance was going on in the hallway, and Jane opened the door to find out what was happening. At first, she frowned, almost imperceptibly, when she discovered that Elizabeth was missing, but then she smiled widely. This would mean her position as the favorite would be granted much sooner than expected! She must see Charles today, so they could marry as soon as may be.

She dressed in her favorite pink frock and ordered the carriage to go to Netherfield. Soon, oh so soon, she would be married to a man that worshipped the ground she walked on, and her mother would have to admit that she, Jane, was better than Elizabeth.

Frustration filled her as she reached Netherfield, as no servants were there to assist her. Even the door was unmanned, and she entered without permission. Well, she didn't really need permission, as the house would be hers soon enough. She followed the hallway back to the sitting room, hoping to find the family. She was in luck, as Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst, and Mrs. Hurst were sitting on separate chairs, staring at each other. No one acknowledged Jane's entry until she spoke.

"Good morning, Charles! I have the most diverting news!" She chirped happily. He stared blankly at her as if he didn't recognize his own betrothed. "I feel as though we must get our special license sooner rather than later," she continued, blithely ignoring the atmosphere in the room. "We may be married by the end of next week!"

"Jane," Bingley finally croaked, his voice stiff from unshed tears, "We cannot marry any time soon. Caroline has disappeared." He paused as he swallowed back more tears. "We had an argument yesterday, and she left in the middle of the night. I have no idea where she has gone. I must find my sister before I can find my own happiness. My conscience would not allow me to do otherwise." He stood and approached her, hand outstretched, hoping she would stand beside him during this difficult time. He anticipated a long, happy life with his angel, but the start of it must be delayed.

A look of utter horror crossed Jane's face. "If she has disappeared, she is ruined anyway." She grasped the lapels on Bingley's coat and shook him. "Now is the time! Elizabeth has made a fatal error by running off, and Mama is predisposed to make me her favourite! Marrying a man of wealth would finalize it!" Her eyes glittered with emotion.

Bingley stared down at his betrothed with no little sadness and confusion. He lightly grasped her wrists, causing her to meet his eyes. "Marrying a man of wealth?" He repeated blankly, "I thought we were marrying for love, not so you would be your mother's favorite."

"Of course we are, Charles! But I have always been Mama's favorite, and if my marriage can fortify my position, so much the better!"

Bingley blinked. His entire life was falling to pieces, and he didn't know how to make it stop. "Regardless, I cannot marry you until Caroline has been recovered." Inwardly, he decided to find out how to break the engagement. After living with Caroline's selfishness, he had no wish for that kind of behavior in a wife.

"No!" Jane shrieked. "We have no need of the scandal that will be created by your sister! We will marry now!" Her hands tightened as she shook with anger. "You will marry me now!" She repeated.

"No, I will not. In fact," Bingley drew her hands away from him, "I think I will not marry you at all." Her mouth agape, Jane stood there a moment longer before her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell onto the floor in a faint.

Mrs. Nichols was called and quickly revived the woman with the help of smelling salts. Jane sat in a puddle of skirts, smiling. She would not respond to any questions, she just sat there, staring blankly and smiling, a sticky line of drool dripping from her mouth.

December 15, 1811

Papa was perpetually angry, especially since Elizabeth had left. Mama was fluttering about more than usual and spared no time for her. Elizabeth had the distinction of being the first of the girls to marry, something that Lydia herself had always wanted. Now that Jane was sequestered away in Bedlam, causing the entire family to be snubbed by their neighbors, Lydia was bored. She crept away from the house, deciding that getting married was the answer to all her problems. Captain Carter had always been one of her favorite officers, and she knew a compromise would lead to a marriage with the man. The hour was late, too late for respectable women to be out of doors, but Lydia paid no attention to anything as she walked into town. As she walked past an alleyway, she was grabbed from behind. "'Ello, lovie. Fancy a tumble?"

She blinked, not understanding what the man was asking. "Um, no?" She tried to pull away, but her arm was held tight in his dirty, sticky hand. "I have somewhere to be, so please release me."

He laughed, "Well, well, we got ourselves a real lady, boys!" Lydia heard several shuffling noises and gaped at the group of men surrounding her. As one reached for her, she let loose a scream. A voice stopped the men in their tracks.

"Release her, gentlemen. Leave the lady alone, or taste my blade." He was wreathed in shadows, but his voice was firm and somewhat menacing.

The men were not immediately willing to give up their prize, but the sound of metal on metal had them changing their minds. The group scuttled out of the alleyway like roaches fleeing from the light.

"Miss Lydia, what are you doing here at this time of night?" The man stepped into the light.

She smiled. "Looking for you."

April 4, 1812

It had been months since he'd been in this room. He hadn't even until now, allowed the maids to clean the room. Down the hallway, another maid was busily cleaning Lydia's room. Mr. Bennet looked around sadly, thinking of his daughters and wondering where he'd gone wrong. No, this debacle couldn't be his fault, just one of those quirks of fate. He looked up to the maid, standing beside the bed that had been Lizzy's, holding a small package.

He took it and unrolled it carefully. The little cross fell out into his hand, and he stood there staring at it. His favorite child had truly left everything that he had given her behind. He noticed that the paper that had contained the cross had writing on it. Lizzy's writing. Hands shaking, he smoothed the lines of the paper and began to read.

As he read the tear-stained note, Mr. Bennet realized the full scope of what his indolence had caused him to lose. He had caused his daughters irreparable damage. Blindly, he left the room, carrying the cross with him to his library. He sat at his desk for a long time, lost in memories. Finally, he opened a small drawer in his desk, fingers running over the object inside. Taking an empty sheet of paper, Mr. Bennet wrote two words on the white expanse. He shakily lay the cross on top of the paper and breathed heavily.

A loud crack echoed throughout the house, startling the inhabitants. Various members of the family and servants met in the hallway, eyes widened in fear. "We're all to be murdered in our beds," Mrs. Bennet wailed, "Mr. Bennet, Mr. Bennet!" But Mr. Bennet never arrived.

Moments later, Mr. Hill pushed open the library door to find him laying on his desk, blood already pooling around the tiny cross and the words, "I'm sorry." Faces peered around the servant, taking in the grisly scene. A muffled thud drew everyone's attention, as Mrs. Bennet crumpled to the floor. Mrs. Hill had the salts out in a trice, but as she reached her Mistress, she realized that the matron was not breathing. The remaining Bennet girls were orphans.

Mr. Bennet's death brought the arrival of Mr. Collins. He had not managed to find a wife and decided that a Bennet would do as well as anyone else and, within a week, he was married to Mary. She was a submissive, obedient wife, but unfortunately, Lizzy's premonitions about the man proved to be true, and he would find reasons to beat his wife.

Mary wrote to Lizzy and Lydia, begging for help, which both were willing to provide, regardless of the break in the family due to the elopements. The Darcys showed up, unannounced, one night, prepared to take both Kitty and Mary into their protection. They arrived to find Mr. Collins, shaking with anger, standing over the bloodied body of his wife. The magistrate was called, and Collins was hauled off to jail, to await trial. Lydia Carter arrived soon after, and together, the three sisters worked to keep their other sister alive. Slowly, but surely, Mary recovered. The day that she finally was allowed out of bed was the day she was notified of her husband's visit to the hangman's noose. She begged her sister to take her away from that cursed place. Agreeing, the Darcys took Kitty and Mary and departed for Pemberley. Lydia went back to her husband's command, promising to write.

The entail on Longbourn died with the execution, allowing the girls to inherit the estate, but none of them ever wanted to see the place again, and Jane had no opinion whatsoever. It sold quickly, and the money went into a dowry for Kitty and Mary too, if she ever chose to marry again. The Darcys took Jane out of Bedlam and ensconced her in a private facility that treated their patients in a more humane fashion.

Over the next couple of years, Kitty and Mary attended the Season with Georgiana, with whom they both had a close connection. Both girls had a wariness with most men that crippled their chances to find husbands. Most of their time was spent with family.

Mary became quite good at the pianoforte after receiving lessons. Oftentimes, when he was visiting, Colonel Fitzwilliam could be found in the music room, listening to her playing. Eventually, he was wounded in battle and spent his recovery at Pemberley. Mary was one of his favorite nurses. Her calmness was a balm to his soul. The day the doctor allowed him out of bed, he proposed, and Mary accepted. They went on to have three children, two boys, and one girl and lived in peace and harmony.

Kitty enjoyed her lessons as well but found herself drawn to art. She could often be found with a pad in hand, her fingers stained with whatever medium she was using that day. This was the pretty picture that Charles Bingley found when he showed up in high spirits one day. He had finally received a letter from Caroline. After all this time, he had thought she was dead, but instead, she was married and living in America. The boisterous man had grabbed the first person he had seen and had assiduously kissed her. Kitty had been surprised at first but had quickly reciprocated. They married the same day as Mary and her Colonel. The Bingleys had just one child. A boy who looked just like his father, whom he was named after.

Lizzy and Fitzwilliam ended up with five children, although their last one was a rather late surprise. Their first was a girl, followed in quick succession by twin boys and another girl. When no more had come, the Darcys figured their family was complete. When Lizzy's courses had ceased many years later, she had thought she had approached the age where it naturally stopped. On the day her eldest married, she felt the stirring within her belly. Her husband was surprised and admittedly worried, but happy as well. Five months later, their last child entered the world. A little boy named after his father.

Falling Apart by One Desire

Happily Ever After by Jordan Fisher & Angie Keilhauer


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